Revenge of the Spurned Lover
by Marci
Summary: Ch:16 BV A highschool fic. Yamcha is dumped and humiliated by Bulma and he wants revenge. And Vegeta just happens to be the perfect guy to help him, with a little persuasion, of course. RR!
1. Prologue

I was watching "10 Thing I Hate About You" the other night, and I decided that I wanted to do a Bulma/Vegeta story along those lines. I haven't done a B/V highschool fic in awhile, so I figured I'd give it a shot.

* * *

Chapter 1: Prologue

He fumed, nostrils flaring, as he watched her walk down the hall, laughing with her friends. Only yesterday had they broken up and already—_already_—she was perfectly fine. Not even a hint of sadness or remorse at their failed relationship.

How could he mean nothing to her after _four_years? Was he the only one that had been invested in them? And what gave her the right to humiliate him, and then _mock_ him with her so sudden happiness? After all that time he reasoned that he deserved at least a few tears, some backward glances in the halls or class, something to tell him that he had been more than a space-filler and virginity-taker.

She turned the corner, her aqua-blue locks trailing behind her. He had always loved her hair best of all—so silky and unique. She was unlike any other girl he had ever known or would ever know. And, at the drop of a hat, she was gone.

_No_, he thought bitterly, his shoulders tensing. He was not going to stand for it. He didn't deserve to be treated this way. He trusted her with his heart and she ripped it out!

And she was going to pay for it.

Flashback:

"You're starting to scare me, hun," he said a little jokingly as he watched her pace the length of her room. Twenty minutes ago she'd called him and asked him to come over; she needed to "talk". He was hesitant to say the least. No boyfriend ever liked serious talks with their girlfriend. They were destined to lose. "What's going on?"

She halted mid-stride and turned to him, an envelope clutched to her chest.

"I was accepted at Claremont (fictional)," she said, then winced as if he'd struck her.

"That's great babe!" he exclaimed, jumping off the bed to pull her into a warm hug. "Where was that one again?" It wasn't that he didn't pay attention, but she'd applied to so many colleges over the past few months that it was hard to keep track.

"England," she whispered, bowing her head.

His face suddenly went blank and he lowered himself back down on the bed.

"How—"

"That's why I wanted to talk," she sighed, and stepped back. He did not like her tone in the least. "Yamcha—"

"Are you breaking up with me?" he whispered, too shocked to say it any louder.

"Yamcha, we can't maintain a relationship when I'm hundreds of miles away! In another country for Kami's sake! It's impossible and I won't put you through that…That, and…" She glanced at him quickly, then back at the floor, suddenly at a loss for words. Why was this so hard? She knew what she wanted to say, but the moment she found the courage her tongue seemed to swell and prevent her from saying a thing.

"What?" he hit harshly. His fists were clenched so hard he thought for sure his skin would tear apart.

"I received this acceptance letter a week ago," she said, holding up the earth-shattering envelope. "Since then I've been doing a lot of thinking…and I…I realized that this is what I want more than _anything_ and that's why we have to break up, Yamcha. I have to go here, it's been my dream since I was a girl. It's the best science school in the world…I'm sorry, but I can't keep letting us live a lie. Yamcha, I don't—"

"Don't say it." He rose to his feet again, this time heading for the door. The sadness was beginning to set in and he wondered, _Is this what it feels like to have your heart broken?_ He felt like he couldn't breathe, and he needed desperately to get away from her right then. But how was he supposed to live without her? She had been such a huge part of his life and now what? Graduation was six months away. How could he endure that long with her around, unable to touch or kiss her?

"I know it's impossible," she said, catching his attention, "but I'd still like to be your friend. You know, the way we were in junior high. I miss that."

He looked up, and for a moment she believed that he would say yes and that everything would be alright.

"Screw you, Bulma," he said quietly, but with all the force of a blow, then slammed the door behind him.

End Flashback:

It was only the next day and already he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He wasn't going to be able to get through this unless he knew she suffered the same as he did. And if their break-up wasn't going to make that happen, then he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

He made to continue walking to class, when a sudden force pummeled him into his locker.

"Watch where you're going, fuckhead!" hissed a familiar voice. He was about to retort, when an idea suddenly hit him. He grabbed the much shorter boy by the elbow, turning him around. Normally they wouldn't associate, Yamcha being a high-class son of a banker and him being, well, orphaned and barely able to hold his part-time job and pay rent for his junkyard apartment. Not to mention his foul attitude and the fact that he hated everyone. "What the hell do you think you're doing, pretty boy? Let go of me."

Yamcha didn't answer, but reached into his pocket and pull out his wallet. From the folio, he extracted three crisp $100 bills and offered them to him.

"Fuck you," he spat, wrenching his arm free.

"I have a proposition for you."

"I said, fuck you."

"How about five hundred?"

He stopped in his tracks. Five hundred was enough to pay rent for his apartment and still have some for food.

"What do you want?" he groaned, turning back. He was sure he was going to kick himself for this later.

"Not much," he said, handing him the promised money. "How well do you know Bulma Briefs, Vegeta?"

* * *

Well that's all for now, seeing as this is only a prologue. More to come soon. I don't like Vegeta being poor either, but I needed him to be for the story. I'll elaborate on it further as I go on.

REVIEWSMore Chapters

P.S. Claremont is just a college I made up, because there were none that fit my description in England.


	2. The Stage is Set

Last time:

"What do you want?" he groaned, turning back. He was sure he was going to kick himself for this later.

"Not much," he said, handing him the promised money. "How well do you know Bulma Briefs, Vegeta?"

* * *

Chapter 2: The Stage is Set

"Are you sure you're okay, B?"

"Yes, Chi-Chi, I'm fine," Bulma sighed, and dropped her backpack to the floor next to her desk. "I just…It's going to take some getting used to is all. I know I made the right choice."

"I still can't believe you're leaving us to go to England. What snobby bastards live over there."

Bulma rolled her eyes at her other best friend, 18 Gero. In the event of Bulma's decision to end things with Yamcha, Chi-Chi and 18 were practically forcing her to spend the weekend with them. No boys allowed. Goku and Krillin, their long-time boyfriends, were none too pleased to be shunned for an entire weekend, but they complied. Bulma was, after all, their friend too.

"Shut up, 18," she laughed, shaking her head. "You know how long I've wanted to go there. Besides, my dad already said you two could use a company jet to come see me any time you want."

It was well into the night, around two in the morning, when the subject of Yamcha came up again. All three girls had consumed a number of cocktails, provided by Mrs. Briefs, who they'd watched several movies with in their home theater earlier that evening. When the lady of the house decided to turn in, the girls retreated to Bulma's room, taking their remaining glasses of strawberry daiquiris.

"I still don't get it," Chi-Chi said, thumbing through a photo album she'd dragged out of Bulma's closet. "This thing is _full_ of pictures of you and Yamcha. And it's not the only one. You're telling us that after four years you don't love him?"

"Well I'm not a genius at everything," Bulma grunted into her drink. "Look at all those billionaires out there who marry women half their age and don't see that they're after their money. Smart people are idiots when it comes to love."

"Yamcha wasn't a gold digger," 18 laughed, and grabbed the album from Chi-Chi, tossing it aside. "His family has more money than they know what to do with."

"I never said he was," Bulma sighed. "I meant that _I_ didn't know what I wanted. I liked him in junior high, and when he asked me out in high school I said yes. I don't know how four years went by so quickly, but before I knew it I was accepted at Claremont and I couldn't see Yamcha in the picture, no matter how hard I tried to put him there."

"What I don't get," Chi-Chi stepped in, shooting 18 a playful glare for taking the photo album from her, "is how you can't be upset over this. I mean, no matter your romantic feelings for him, he was still a part of your life for four years, B."

Bulma sighed and nodded, her bottom lip tucked under the top one.

"I told him I still wanted to be friends," she finally said, and there was no denying the sheen over her eyes was the cause of oncoming tears. "I said I wanted things to be the way they used to be…and he…he…" She burst into a fit of sobs so suddenly that Chi-Chi and 18 had almost no time to react. They wrapped a blanket around her and held her close, rubbing her back in slow circles until the sobs were reduced to a few soft sniffles.

"What did he do?" 18 asked cautiously.

"He said, 'Screw you, Bulma,' and slammed the door," Bulma said monotone, her eyes staring off, unseeing. "I left him to keep from hurting him…But, somehow, I hurt him anyway…Do you think…Do you think he…loves me?"

The sense of dread was so heavily laced through her voice that neither Chi-Chi nor 18 could muster the courage to tell her the truth. So instead they shook their heads and suggested another movie.

* * *

The money was sitting on his nightstand, an old plastic milk crate that double as a place to keep his records. He only had a few records, mostly ones he'd been given by the police station after they'd cleaned out his parents' house. One or two he'd bought himself, and a couple more his best and only friend, Goku, had given him. Not that he would ever admit to anyone that he associated with someone like him.

For hours he'd been staring at the money, turning over in his head whether or not he should do what had been asked of him. He'd been given the opportunity to take the money and think it over. If he wasn't "up for it" then he simply had to give the money back. The only problem was that he really did need the money. His hours had been cut back _again_ at work and the rent was due soon. If he was late on another payment then surely the landlord would have a good enough reason to kick him out. He was already toeing the line; one more wrong move and he was homeless. And nothing could make him willingly endure that again. It had only been a few nights sleeping in the bus station, right after his parents died, but it was enough of a taste to make him do anything to avoid it.

With a heavy sigh, he grabbed three of the five hundred and stuffed it into an envelope marked: Rent-Ouji. Slipping on his coat over his two sweatshirts—because the building wasn't heated this early in winter, and hardly at all even then, and especially not the hallways—he headed for his landlord's room on the first floor. He didn't bother to knock, knowing that he wouldn't be a welcomed visitor, and slipped the rent under the door. But afterwards, he didn't go back to his apartment, not just yet.

The bodega a block from his apartment building had a payphone out front. He waited for the old woman inside to finish her call, then hurried in after her, stuffing two quarters in the slot to endure his time didn't run out. He didn't need to look at the slip of paper in his wallet to know the number. He'd been staring at it all day, trying to make a decision.

"Hello?" came a voice at the other end. There was some minimal noise in the background, like the person he'd called was at a restaurant or in the bathroom at a club. "Is this you, Vegeta?" the voice asked, with a little cynical laugh, when he said nothing.

"Yeah," he sighed, his forehead pressed against the side of the phone booth.

"Well, do we have a deal or not?"

For nearly a minute he didn't answer, the phone cord twisted so tightly around his fingers they were turning blue. But that could have been due to the early December air. It hadn't snowed in nearly a week and a half, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to. And when it did, Vegeta was going to have to prepare himself for another long, cold winter.

"Yeah," he said, dropping the cord.

"Perfect. When's your lunch break at work tomorrow? I don't want to discuss details over the phone."

"I don't take lunch breaks," he said through his teeth. He'd never taken lunch breaks because they ate away too much of the time he could use to make money.

"Alright." Yamcha was beginning to get a little annoyed. Maybe he wasn't the right guy for the job. "When do you get off work?"

"Eleven."

"You work from nine in the morning to eleven at night on a Saturday with no breaks?" He wasn't buying it.

"No." Since when did their agreement involve Yamcha knowing everything about his life? "I work from seven to three at Rick's (a hardware store) and four to eleven at SCC."

"SCC?" Yamcha laughed, and Vegeta could just see him throwing back his head. Little rich boy with no job and money getting thrown at him just for being alive. Why was he allowing himself to put up with such humiliation? "What the hell do you do working for the community college? Don't tell me you're teaching night classes, Ouji."

Vegeta gritted his teeth. Who did this guy think he was? Two days ago and he would have been walking on the other side of the hall to avoid him, flinching if they made eye-contact. Now he was blatantly mocking him.

"I can give you a nice black eye to match that stupid laugh of yours," Vegeta said, almost casually. "Make one more remark about me or how I live and I'll give you something to spend that money of yours on."

For a moment the line was silent.

"Where are you from three to four?"

"Sitting on my ass," he scoffed. "Walking from Rick's to SCC, you moron. What did you think I was doing?"

"Don't bother. I'll pick you up at the hardware store at three. I'll buy you lunch, then drop you off at the school. We can talk then. Alright?"

"No, not alright. I'm not going to be seen getting into a car with you, rich boy. I'll meet you in the parking garage across the street, second level."

"Is that really necess—"

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll see you then."

And the phone went dead.

* * *

"If you think I'm eating that you're out of your mind."

Goku rolled his eyes and set the steaming pizza box on the kitchen counter. If he left it here then Vegeta would eat it eventually, but never when he was actually there. He would never admit when he needed help, and Goku had seen the inside of his refrigerator. Orange juice and aging pickles were not going to cut it. He never asked, but he always wondered how Vegeta kept so physically fit with no nutrients.

"What are you doing here anyway? Don't you have a girlfriend to keep satisfied?"

"Is there a rule against coming to see my friend?" Goku asked. He took a seat at the kitchen table, which was stacked with school books and empty mugs with coffee stains. Since he was hardly ever home, he had little time to clean. He was either sleeping between jobs and school, or doing his homework. It was eleven thirty on a Saturday night and, if Rick's hadn't cut his hours, then he would be in bed so he could get up at six for work.

"We're not friends," Vegeta insisted, flopping back on his bed. His apartment wasn't exactly meant for having more than one person in it. It was one room with a big bed, kitchen table, three feet of counter space, and a fridge and stove. The bathroom was down the hall. "You don't need to come and check in on me, Kakarot. I'm not a child. I've been doing this for a long time."

"Just because you're used to being on your own doesn't mean you should be." He leaned back on two legs, the back of the chair hitting the counter. "Have you ever talked to 17 or 18 Gero?"

"17 works at Rick's sometimes. I've seen 18 at school."

"So that's a no?"

"Yes, mom, that's a no. Is there a point here?"

"I think you'd like them."

"Okay, Kakarot," he sighed. "Let's pretend for a minute that I have the luxury of free time, that I can see anyone outside of school. What makes them so special that I'd want to spend time with them?"

"Their adopted father died last year."

"How sad for them."

Goku groaned, but continued on.

"Vegeta, he was the owner of Gero Incorporated, the computer empire."

"So!" He was starting to get on his nerves. He could be doing something productive right now instead of listening blabber on about people he doesn't give a damn about.

"When he died the company went to them. They're doing great in managing the company while still in school, but they need more technicians. I know you get nothing short of A's when it comes to computers, and I know about the classes you're taking and acing at SCC." He took a deep breath and stood, a goofy grin painted across his face. "I already talked to them, and they said if you go in tomorrow at ten then they'll interview you."

"What do I need another job for?" he spat, though that wasn't the reason he was upset. How had Goku found out about his classes at the college? They were advanced courses, extensions of his classes at the high school, and fully paid for. From four to seven he took two classes there, and then stocked the book shelves in the library from seven to eleven. He felt so betrayed that he almost didn't hear his next words.

"It won't be _another job_ Vegeta!" he cried excitedly. "It'll be your _only_ job. They said the lowest position gets $15 an hour; head techs get $25. You'll be able to quit at Rick's and Satan Community College."

"You're assuming that I'm even going to go to the dumb interview. I have enough to worry about. I don't need to stress over whether or not I'm getting another job, Kakarot. You can tell your friends no. I'm not interested."

"Just give it a shot, Vegeta. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I could die," he bit sarcastically. "Now will you go? I have a ten page paper due Monday and I haven't even started it yet."

"Fine," Goku sighed, defeated. And he'd been so sure he would accept the interview. "But just know that they said a lot of people are due to retire after the New Year. That gives you a month to think about it."

"Thanks, Kakarot," he said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll be sure to think about it."

"Don't patronize me, Vegeta. I'm just trying to—"

"Help?" he laughed. "Incase you haven't noticed, I never asked for your help."

"Fine. I'll see you Monday."

"Don't count on it."

* * *

Vegeta was halfway around the corner, when he was pulled back, coming face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

"What do you want?"

"Just making sure we're clear on everything," Yamcha said. "If everything goes smoothly, I'll give you a check for one hundred dollars next week. And a check every week for as long as it takes."

"Why are you so hell bent on this?" he asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Just do what you're being paid to do." He suddenly tensed and moved to the side. "Now's your chance." He gave him a thumbs up and slunk away, but not before seeing the finger Vegeta had to show him.

She came walking down the hall so fast he had almost no time to prepare himself, to look casual. The first thing he noticed was not her hair, her defying characteristic, but the way she walked, with one arm at the side and the other bent and clutching her elbow, her head down, as if she weren't a confident young woman with everything in the world.

He stuck out his leg and waited to hear her fall, but nothing came. When he looked up, she was standing right in front of him, a strange smile playing on her lips.

"Why did you trying to trip me?" she asked, as though she were a teacher and he the student in trouble.

"I wasn't," he said a little too quickly.

"Alright, Vegeta," she laughed, confusing him further. What was so funny? And how the hell did she know his name?

"How do you know my name?" seemed to be the more logical of the two questions to ask.

"Who doesn't know who you are?" was her response. "Underclassmen are afraid of you, and the seniors know enough to stay away. Most of the rumors flying around this Kami forsaken place are about you. How's the striper wife and step-daughter, anyway?"

He tried to stop it, but the laugh escaped regardless. He covered his mouth and faked a cough, hoping she hadn't heard. But he wasn't so lucky. And he was definitely regretting his arrangement with Yamcha. Not that he couldn't do it, but something told him he was going to get more than just money, and not nearly as good as that.

"They're good," he said nonchalantly with a shrug. "She makes good tips." And it was then that it dawned on him. She was the first person outside of Goku and his co-worker and teachers that he'd actually talked to in so long he couldn't remember. And, against his will, he was actually enjoying himself. Maybe it was because he could see through her smile and that she was miserable just like him, and he could relate to that. Or maybe it was the money he'd received and would continue to receive. Something wasn't right. He could feel it. But it was too late to back out now.

"That's good," she laughed softly, though almost immediately her face went grim. "Shit." Vegeta looked up to see Yamcha coming down the hall, backtracking. For a moment he thought he was looking for him, when he winked, then looked away, and it clicked. He was baiting Bulma to react to his presence. Vegeta was the only one around and therefore the only one to "protect" her from Yamcha. And no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, Pretty Boy was damn good at this revenge thing. "Walk with me," she said out of the corner of her mouth, her entire body tensing. She grabbed his elbow and started down the hall in the opposite direction Yamcha was going.

They reached an empty corridor and she let go, sighing loudly.

"Thanks. I can't stand being alone with him. He's always staring at me."

"Uh, yeah." When was the last time he'd had female contact? Besides Kito, who hadn't been around in months and who he could care less about.

"I'm Bulma by the way."

"Do you really think that's necessary?" he mocked. And to his complete surprise she laughed.

"True." She glanced at her watch, then back at him. "You know, you're not as scary up close. Mind walking a girl to her car?"

The opportunity was too perfect to pass up.

"Only if you don't mind giving a guy a ride to work," he countered with a smirk.

"Deal," she said, snatching up his hand and giving it a quick shake. "Rick's, right?"

"How did you—"

"I'm friends with 17. I think he has a crush on you."

And to this all Vegeta could do was laugh.

"Is there a problem with that?"

"No," he sighed, trying to control his laughter. "Just a first."

"Good, because I won't tolerate homophobes."

"What do I care what other people do in their own beds?"

"Brilliant." And for the second time in less than five minutes she grabbed his arm and started leading him down the hall.

* * *

I had a bunch of free time today (being a day off from school), so I decided to write chapter two. Things are moving sort of fast for Bulma and Vegeta, but take into consideration that she's kind of vulnerable after her break-up and he's being paid to be with her, or at least be around her for now. He's a little OOC because he has to get Bulma to like him, this will change as time goes on.

REVIEW and I shall update :)


	3. Hacker

Last time:

"What do I care what other people do in their own beds?"

"Brilliant." And for the second time in less than five minutes she grabbed his arm and started leading him down the hall.

* * *

Chapter 3: Hacker

The trees and street signs went by at an alarmingly slow pace, seeming to come at them, rather than the other way around. Vegeta couldn't help the small knot twisting itself tighter and tighter in his stomach. Not that he was uncomfortable around women, or that the purpose of his being here bothered him. No, he just didn't know if he could pull it off. How the hell was he supposed to make this girl like him? She was smart, beautiful, popular, rich—she could have any guy she wanted, and he had more baggage than he knew what to do with.

_At least I got five hundred bucks out of it_, he thought, his head leaning against the closed window. He sighed and closed his eyes, concentrating on the warmth being issued from the car's heater. When was the last time he felt this kind of comfort? He had gotten so used to the numbing cold that the heat was almost painful.

"So…" Bulma said, breaking the silence. Vegeta straightened up, but didn't look at her. "How many of the rumors are actually true?" she asked. "Or at least close to the truth?"

"You're being awfully bold for someone I've never talked to before," he replied with a heavy smirk. Even if the plan didn't go as it was supposed to, at least he would get some money and a little entertainment. He never knew Bulma Briefs could be such a firecracker. He made a mental note to speak with Yamcha about certain benefits of the terms they agreed on. "Besides, I could ask you the same thing."

"Why don't you tell me which of mine you think are true, and I'll tell you if you're right or not."

He eased into a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat, stretching his legs out as far as they could go.

"Alright, Briefs. I'll play your little game."

"Ei ei Ouji," she laughed. _What's so scary about this guy anyway?_ she wondered. _He seems harmless enough. A little bit of an attitude and a major inflated ego, but that's nothing to be scared of._ For years her friends Chi-Chi and Krillin had been crossing to the other side of the hall just to avoid him. What would they say when she told them she gave him a ride? And that he didn't attack her. The very idea of it nearly made her laugh out loud. _He is cute though…_

"When you were seven," he began, instantly catching her full attention with how far back he chose to go, "is it true that you stole your father's jet after a fight and flew to Paris?"

"Very good," she congratulated, clapping one hand on his that was resting on his leg. He was so unprepared for it that he jumped slightly, jerking his arm away. She seemed unfazed, however, and continued on as if nothing had happened. "Your first rumor was in fact true. Well, except the age. I was actually six, and I never did _land_ in Paris."

"Impressive. You're the first girl I haven't been inclined to take a nap while she was talking."

"I'm honored…Okay, my turn." She bit her lip in concentration, and Vegeta couldn't help but imagine kissing her. Of course he was expecting that it would happen eventually, what with the terms involved. But it wasn't until right then that it sunk in. "I know the striper-wife is a rumor, but do you have a significant other?"

He frowned and for the first time looked over at her.

"I'm disappointed in you, Briefs. That was pathetic."

"I know," she half-sighed, half-laughed. "I was just curious."

A moment later the hardware store came into view. She slid her car into the closest space she could find, then killed the engine. Vegeta just sat there was the longest time, unsure of what to say or do. Walking from the school usually took him a half an hour, as opposed to the drive taking less than ten. He had twenty minutes to kill—free time. And he wasn't prepared for it.

"Aren't you going to go to work?" Bulma asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous. Why wasn't he getting out of the car if they were there? Had Chi-Chi and Krillin been right about him? Had she fallen into his trap?

"I'm early," he stated simply, then unbuckled his seatbelt. "I've never been early."

"How long does it take you to walk here everyday?"

"Depending on the weather, a half an hour, give or take a few minutes," he said with a shrug. Really, the walk didn't bother him. He was so used to walking that he had to wear heavy-duty boots all year 'round.

"Do you walk to school too?"

"No, I fly."

"Haha." She glanced out her window, then down at her hands, then back at him. "Where do you live, anyway?"

"A couple miles from here. Why?"

"Are you serious!" She was noticeably shocked. "How long does it take you to walk _to school_?"

"Hour."

"In the winter!" she balked. She could never imagine having to walk that far in the freezing cold even once, let alone everyday.

"Yeah," he said, a little annoyed. Where the hell was she going with this? Who cared how long it took him to walk places? Or what time of year it was. It was his life and he didn't like her prying into it. Even if she was possibly the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

"What's your address?"

"Why?"

"I can't let you walk to school in the winter," she stated matter-of-factly. "I'm going to drive you until spring."

"You barely know me!" But that was by far the least of his worries. He wasn't going to let her within a mile of his apartment building.

"If you don't want to tell me, then I can just look it up."

"I'm not listed." He didn't even have a phone; there was no reason to have him listed.

"Not in the phonebook," she laughed, giving an offhanded gesture with her hand. "In the Satan City database on Capsule Corps. main computer. It has information on _everyone_ in the city, no matter how much they try to hide themselves."

"I thought you were a capsule company," he scoffed, "not the secret service."

"I'm serious, Vegeta. I don't like the idea of you walking to school like this. It's not good."

"I've been doing it for four years, woman. I think I can handle myself." He reached for the door handle, but she pulled him back. They were so close that their foreheads were touching.

"Either way," she said, her warm, sweet breath on his lips, "I will be at your place tomorrow morning."

"Fine," he hissed, pulling back before he gave into the urge to kiss her. He really should have called Kito before he had contact with Bulma, to make sure he didn't act on his impulses. "I'll be waiting at the bus stop on the corner of Fifth and Lenix at 7:00."

"Great," she sighed.

"I'm really going to regret taking this ride," he groaned, then climbed out of the car.

"Oh stop," she laughed. "I saw you smile once or twice."

"My face itched."

"Sure thing, Vegeta. I'll see you at 7:00 tomorrow. Don't keep me waiting."

And before he knew it she was gone and he was five minutes late for work.

* * *

"You'll never guess who I gave a ride to this afternoon," Bulma said, dropping a teabag into each of the two mugs she'd set on the table.

"You're right," Goku laughed, taking his mug and breathing in the warmth of the steaming liquid. "Who?"

"I'll give you a hint." She leaned forward, her mug clutched in both hands. "He's not very tall and you're secretly friends with him."

"You can't be serious!" He was genuinely shocked. For some time now Bulma had known about his friendship with Vegeta. She was the only person he'd told—not even Chi-Chi knew. And when he'd told her that fateful day, all she really had to say was: Well I'm glad the guy has at least one friend. And that was the end of it. Today was the first time in what must have been months since he was last mentioned between them.

"I joke not. I ran into him in the hall just as Yamcha was heading my way. The little snot tried to trip me for no reason, so I used him as a shield to ward off Yamcha. Worked damn good too."

"And how did he end up in your car?"

"He asked for a ride," she said with a shrug, as if it were an everyday occurrence. "I'm going to give him a ride to school everyday until winter's over, too."

This was too much, and Goku spit his tea all over the table.

"Goku!" she cried, covering her face. But she couldn't help but laugh.

"You don't even know him, B."

"If you're friends with him then he can't be all bad. I think he needs more human contact. The guy's practically a hermit. And not very open about himself, I might add. Nearly went ballistic when I asked for his address."

"You wouldn't want people visiting you either if you lived his life," he pointed out.

"I feel sorry for the guy."

"Well don't," he said, rather a bit more sternly than he meant to. "Sorry. What I mean is that he doesn't want anyone to pity him. That, and he doesn't adapt well to new people. And he definitely doesn't trust them. He barely trusts me and we've been friends since grade school!"

"Are you trying to warn me?" she laughed.

"Sort of…Yeah, I am. You're really vulnerable right now, B, and Vegeta's the type of guy who would take advantage of that."

"Then why are you friends with him?"

"No one's completely good or perfect. He's had it rough and he doesn't like change. All I'm saying is watch out."

"I'll be fine, dad."

"Bulma!"

"Okay, okay. I'll watch my back," she sighed, then added, "Dad," under her breath.

* * *

Though he'd protested, the school insisted that Vegeta have at least one study hall per semester to keep up with his heavy workload. Originally he'd wanted to take another course specializing in blue prints and schematics, but instead he was forced to sit in the stuffy library and do work he could very well do at home. Though, at the moment, he was sort of grateful—his English paper was proving more difficult than he anticipated. Not that he didn't understand the language—he was quite fluent in English, and also knew a little French and Chinese as well—but the author he was analyzing was so boring it nearly put him to sleep.

His mind was spacing out so much, he almost didn't notice the person who sat at his table. He always had his own table in the library, due to the fact that everyone in there was afraid of him because they had either been in a confrontation with him, or scene someone in one.

"Can I help you, Gero?" he sneered. He was _not_ in the mood.

"Goku told me he talked to you in gym about my job offer. He thinks it's a good idea for me to make nice with you so you do the interview."

"You're strangely honest," he commented, his lips curling into a devious smirk. "Is it true you have a crush on me?" he laughed.

"I'm not _that_ honest, Ouji." He leaned forward, his elbows propped on the table. "So, I hear my Bulma is your chauffer now."

"_Your_ Bulma?"

"So it's true!" he laughed, smacking his hand on the table. Inside, however, his emotions were brewing. It was true that he had something of a crush on Vegeta, and that was his reason for being so apprehensive around him. Until now, that is. Up close he wasn't something to be feared. A little snotty and arrogant, but mostly harmless. He couldn't believe how comfortable he was around the guy already.

"She's very persuasive," Vegeta groaned, rolling his eyes.

"She threatened you with the Capsule Corp. database, didn't she?"

"She does that a lot?"

"More than she admits," he sniggered. "She's good though. You can trust her. She won't pry into your personal life. Not if she wants to keep her own ass intact."

"I knew it wasn't as easy as punching numbers into a computer," he snorted.

"Do you like her?"

"Are you always this reckless?"

17 let out another big laugh and leaned onto the back of the chair.

"What is it going to take for you to come to an interview?"

"Why do you want _me_ so bad? There are plenty of more qualified people fresh out of college. Besides," he added, folding his arms stiffly over his chest, "I don't need another job. I'm good with the ones I have."

"You are the one who broke into the school computers a few months ago?"

Vegeta's entire form stiffened and he straightened up, laying his arms on the table.

"How the hell—"

"Don't worry," 17 said in a would-be reassuring voice. "The school doesn't know it was you, and you didn't do any damage to the mainframe. As far as I could tell all you did was go in and delete some stuff off your own file. You did such a good job that I couldn't find even a trace of the files. I still can't figure how you did it. There's _always_ at least a ghost floating around in the system."

"How do you know all that?" And he was genuinely stunned.

"Me and 18 fix the school computers," he said with a shrug, as if it were an everyday job. "They were practically falling all over themselves for our help after you broke in. They were sure that whoever did it put a virus in the system or changed grades. It took us like three hours to convince them that nothing was gone."

"Wait a minute, Gero," he said sharply. "How the hell did you know it was me?"

"I told you," he sighed. "Your files were the only ones tampered with. That, and the computer that was hacked into was the one you always use in the lab."

"So why didn't you tell the school?"

"Are you kidding!" he laughed. "Why the hell do they need to know? You didn't hurt anything. Besides, it made me and 18 see what an asset you could be to the company. Since then we've been trying to get you in for an interview."

"And you thought your moronic friend Kakarot was the right choice for the job?" Now it was his turn to laugh. Why had they picked him anyway? Could they know that he and Goku were friends? Had he told? _No_, Vegeta thought. _He wouldn't. I'd kill him and he knows it._

"We happened to get into a conversation about you and the job openings one night when he was over. He said that you two had gym together and had been paired up a few times. We figured why not."

"I hope you don't think I'm interested now just because you have dirt on me."

17 smiled and nodded slowly.

"I don't do blackmail, Ouji. You either want the interview or not. With the work we've seen you do, we'll wait as long as we have to."

"How generous."

"No. It's just good management." He stood to leave and offered Vegeta his hand. He hesitated, then shook it, staying seated. "Here," 17 said, reaching into his pocket. It was a business card, and when Vegeta turned it over it had his and 18's cell phone numbers written on it. "Call either of us if you change your mind." He started to walk away, then stopped and turned around. "By the way, you're welcome to come by the house any time. This weekend we're having a party for 18's boyfriend's birthday."

"I'll be sure to mark my calendar," he scoffed sarcastically.

"That's what I thought you'd say. See ya around Ouji."

* * *

Not much really happened, but Vegeta has some good interactions with some different people.

REVIEW and I shall update.


	4. Visitors

Last time:

"I'll be sure to mark my calendar," he scoffed sarcastically.

"That's what I thought you'd say. See ya around Ouji."

* * *

Chapter 4: Visitors

"I hear 17 invited you to Krillin's birthday party," Goku said, his right hand absently spinning the rack of keys ready to be cut. It was 5:30 and Rick's Hardware was as slow as it usually was at this hour. Normally, Goku would have been at his part time job as well, but today he decided to call in sick. Mostly to talk with Vegeta about this weekend and try to persuade him to go. He would have trusted 17 to do it himself, if he was still working here (but it was only a ruse to be around Vegeta and to see what having a job was like) and if he actually thought 17 could do it.

"And we all know I have time for parties," Vegeta snorted. He reached under the counter and pulled out a cardboard box labeled: receipts. This quarter it was his turn to do taxes, adding to his sour disposition.

"It's only _one_ night, Vegeta. You can't afford one night?"

"No, Kakarot, I can't. I have two jobs and homework for both schools. Not to mention time to sleep and perhaps eat!" He snatched up a handful of receipts and spread them out on the counter.

"Bulma will be there." He decided to try a different approach.

"And what makes you think I give a damn about her?"

"Even if you don't," Goku said with a sly grin, "she talks about you an awful lot."

Vegeta stopped mid-calculation and looked up. Didn't that mean the plan was working? But it'd only been a week! Clearly she was treating him as a rebound, which meant that maybe the plan _wasn't_ working.

"So?" He tried to play it off, but Goku had caught a glimpse of something in his eyes.

"You can't fool me, Vegeta. I know there's something going on."

_Yeah_, he thought miserably. _If you only knew. You get to go out and party while I'm prostituting myself to Mr. Rich Boy._ Just thinking about it made him want to be sick. When had things gotten so bad that he needed to accept money for someone else's revenge? He had nothing against Bulma, but, on the other hand, she wasn't important to him and therefore he didn't care what happened to her in the end. The only problem really was who he was taking the money from and for what—he would feel the same no matter who he was conning. That, and the fact that if Goku ever found out he would lose his only friend and no matter how much he hated to admit it, that would be the worst thing that could happen.

"Yeah, your little friend is using me as a rebound."

"So there is something going on between you two!"

"Fuck," he swore under his breath. In truth, there wasn't anything going on. Not yet at least. "She's the one forcing me to take rides that I don't want. Take it up with her. I'm done talking about this."

"And the party?"

"What about it? I told you I don't have time. And, even if I did, I wouldn't go. Who do I know there? No one."

"You know me."

"Go home, Kakarot," Vegeta said through his teeth. "I have work to do."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that."

"It's your name," he groaned, exasperated.

"No, Goku is."

"No, that's your middle name—Whatever. I don't care. Just go."

Goku was about to counter, when he decided against it and walked away. It was at times like this that he wondered why he was friends with him at all.

"Goku?" he heard a familiar feminine voice laugh as he hit the cold outside air. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, B. Doesn't your dad have a storeroom full of tools?" he asked with a smirk. He knew exactly why she was here, and it wasn't to shop.

"I came to see Vegeta. 17 told me he invited him to the apartment for the party."

"I've already tried, and he won't budge. He says he has too much to do."

"Oh whatever," she said rolling her eyes and giving a gesture with her hand. "Excuses. He's going."

"You've gotten awfully close to the guy after only a week, Bulma. What's really going on? I thought we talked about this."

"I don't know." She shrugged and stuck her hands in her pockets. "I like him for some reason. He's the most honest person I've ever met."

"Yeah, and he doesn't have anything _nice_ to be honest about."

"He's not perfect himself. I call him on his rudeness. Not that he listens, but he's not as high-and-mighty as people think. He takes whatever he can dish out."

"And you got all this just from driving him to school for not even a whole week?" He couldn't help his protectiveness or his distrust in Vegeta. He was hiding something, more than usual, and he was going to find out.

"Not just to school. I drive him to work too."

"You're being awfully fast with him, B. I don't—"

"Don't give me a lecture, Goku. So I'm attracted to the guy. Is it really such a bad thing? I don't want a relationship. I just ended one with Yamcha and I'll be in London this time next year. I just want…I don't know…Not a fling…Just…a guy."

"Well I can almost guarantee you that that's all he wants too. Just—"

"Be careful." She pulled him into a hug and gave him a hard, friendly kiss on the cheek. "I love you, but I can take care of myself just fine. Trust me."

"Just let me know the second he—"

"I swear." She kissed him once more for good measure, then grabbed the door handle. "I'll see you tomorrow."

When she got inside, the warmth was immediate and comforting. She found Vegeta behind the counter, just where she expected to find him, and looking more annoyed than usual.

"Someone looks like they need a hug," she said, slapping her hands down on the counter. He jumped slightly then glared at her.

"What do you want? I thought I got rid of you when you dropped me off."

"Not a chance. So, about that hug?" She winked jokingly at him and opened her arms.

"No thanks…"

"Fine. But it's here when you want it."

He gave her a questioning look, then went back to sorting out the receipts for taxes. She stood in patient silence for nearly a minute, then hoisted herself up on the counter, sitting on his notepad.

"What the hell are you doing, woman?" He didn't realize that the plan involved him spending every waking moment with Bulma. So far he'd seen her first thing in the morning, then two hours ago when she dropped him off at work. Would he ever have time to himself again?

"You'd really make my week if you would go to Krillin's birthday party," she said bluntly.

"And why is that?"

"Well, for one you need to get out. Goku—" She stopped dead, catching her mistake a syllable too late. For a moment she thought she might get away with it—his expression was completely unreadable. But then, almost too fast for her to react, he grabbed the hunky calculator he'd been adding on and hurled it across the store, crashing into a shelf of boxes of nails and screws. When the smoke cleared, Bulma was on her feet, clutching the edge of the counter. "Well you couldn't expect him not to tell _anyone_," she said in what she thought was a reasoning voice. "I swear I'm the only one who knows. Not even his girlfriend knows." She was talking so fast she almost didn't notice his face un-tense.

"Whatever," he said, his hands still clenched into fists.

"Don't whatever me. I know what a big deal this is. You didn't want anyone to know about you two being friends." She paused a moment, then leaned over the counter. "Can I ask why?"

"No," he sighed, pushing her back. "Don't you have anything better to do than torture me?"

"Not really."

"Then go do nothing somewhere else. I'm busy." How many times was he going to have to say that before people would listen? And how the hell did his life change so much in a matter of days?

"I'll tell you what. Come to the party and I'll leave now."

"It's not worth it." He came around the side of the counter to pick up the mess he'd just made. His boss was going to chew him out for breaking the calculator. He reached down to sweep some nails back into their box, when a soft object made contact with his hand: Bulma's hand. She pushed the nails into the box for him and sealed it, then tossed it onto the shelf.

"It'll be faster if we both do it."

"You don't give up, do you?" he grumbled.

"Nope," she chirped. "He's the deal, 'Geta. You come to the party—I'll even give you a ride—or everyone finds out about you and Goku."

Vegeta dropped the handful of nails he'd just grabbed, looking at her as if she'd just insulted his dead parents.

"You're that desperate to get a date?" he scoffed angrily, and clamored to his feet.

"I'm not going to pretend that I don't like you, Vegeta. I'm not a shy person."

"How lucky for me."

"So, what do you say?" she asked hopefully.

"Do I really have a choice?"

Before he knew it her arms were around his neck. For an instant he felt her soft lips on his cheek, and then she was heading for the door.

"It's a good thing you agreed," she said, standing in the doorway.

"And why is that?"

"I was never going to tell anyone." And before he could say a word the door jiggled shut.

* * *

Vegeta cursed loudly and threw his shirt on the floor. Nothing he owned was clean enough to wear. He glanced at his watch and cursed again. Bulma was going to be there in an hour and he wasn't ready in the least. He'd only just come home a half an hour ago, having worked out in the gym at SCC (which was free for him before he worked their)—he was sweaty and needed a shower, but the bathroom had been occupied since he got back.

Swallowing his pride, he pulled his boots back on and trudged out of his apartment. He reached the payphone in less than three minutes, punching in Goku's number so fast it was as though he'd been born with the information.

"Son residence," came an elderly man's voice.

"Gohan, put Kakarot on." He didn't have time for pleasantries. Not that he ever did though.

"Oh Vegeta! I haven't heard from you in ages!" Goku's grandfather cheered. "How are you boy?"

"In a hurry. Is Kakarot there?"

"Oh very well." Vegeta heard a muffled shout for Goku, then a clutter. "Vegeta?"

"Come get me," he said, ready to hang up the phone and run back to his apartment.

"Wait, what? Why?"

"I need a shower and I have no clean clothes."

"Are you going to the party tonight?" Vegeta could just see him beaming on the other end. Apparently he and Bulma didn't share everything.

"Just come get me."

"Alright," he laughed, and hung up the phone.

Vegeta was halfway back to his apartment when he stopped dead in his tracks, having just realized what he was doing. Since when did he care what he looked or smelled like? He wasn't even going to this party because he wanted to. He was going because Bulma wanted him to, and when he was with Bulma then he got rent money.

He took his anger out on a lone rock on the sidewalk, shooting it clear into the road.

"I hate being fucking poor…"

* * *

Goku had Vegeta ready and back to his apartment in time for Bulma to pick him up, then headed off to 17 and 18's place himself. All the way he'd tried to get Vegeta to tell him that he liked Bulma and that was the reason he was being so anal about his appearance—Vegeta flipped him off and threw his favorite CD out the window.

When he got back in his apartment, he grabbed his wallet and coat, having forgotten them in his haste to get clean. He walked out without locking any doors, for no one even thought of breaking into a dump like his building, and headed for the bus stop Bulma always picked him up at.

He sat on the bench in the little enclosure and pulled his wallet back. Thumbing threw the crisp new bills provided by his new benefactor, he couldn't help but think that what he was doing was wrong. Not that something like that ever stopped him before, but other things were at stake. Goku would _never_ forgive him for what he was doing if he found out the truth, which made him want to call the whole thing off. What would he do if he lost his only friend? Yes, he boasted that he didn't need him, that he was a loner and always would be—but, in actuality, Goku was probably the only thing holding him together.

Ten minutes later a modest-looking black car pulled up, the passenger's side window open. He got up and climbed in, not saying a word. Bulma didn't bother to try to make conversation with him either, for she wasn't exactly in the talking mood. Earlier that morning she'd had a not-so-pleasant run-in with Yamcha and was still stewing over it.

Flashback:

Bulma rung her hair out, then twirled it up atop her head. She stepped carefully out of the shower, a white terrycloth robe wrapped around her slender frame. Trying not to drip too much water on her hardwood floor, she crept into her walk-in closet and attempted to find the perfect outfit. She wasn't usually concerned about such trivial things as her appearance, though she always looked presentable, but today was different. If she was going to catch Vegeta's eye then she needed something better than tight jeans and a polo shirt. She still didn't know why she was so attracted to him, and so quickly, but she figured after a few weeks it would pass and she could—

She stopped her search and leaned back on the balls of her feet. What would she do? She knew she liked Vegeta well enough, but would they remain…friends? Were they even friends now? He would no doubt deny it. But did she believe they were? Or was all this time spent together something else? And did she want something _more_? She knew she told Goku that that wasn't the case, but, deep down, was that really the truth? Just over a week without Yamcha and already she was gearing up for another guy. She had to admit, however, that she hadn't felt so exhilarated since she and Yamcha first started seeing each other.

"Oh shit," she sighed, her shoulders slumping. That's _exactly_ what she was doing with Vegeta. It was all the same, with the small exception that Vegeta wanted nothing to do with her. _But I can't like him _that _much_, she thought. _I don't even know the guy…It's just a crush. I'll get over—_

"Bulma!"

She was jerked from her thoughts so suddenly, she nearly tripped over her own feet.

"What mom!" she called back, sticking her head out the closet door.

"You have a visitor!"

"Send them up!" She rolled her eyes, wondering why Chi-Chi was coming over so early in the morning. Didn't she and Goku have study plans before the party?

She slipped back into the closet and resumed her search, hardly noticing when her bedroom door opened, then closed.

"Hey Chi. What's—"

"Before you tell me to leave, just hear me out."

"What do you want, Yamcha?" she sighed. She didn't want, or mean, to be rude, but _he_ had made it perfectly clear that he didn't want to see her again. "Last I knew, I was supposed to be screwing myself."

"I'm sorry about that," he said, lowering his eyes. "I just…I was pissed, Bulma! You couldn't have expected me to take it with a smile!"

"I was doing you a favor and you threw it back in my face!" Bulma hissed, bringing her right arm up to ensure her towel wouldn't fall in her anger.

"A favor! How the hell was _that_ a favor!"

"I'm going to London to start my life, Yamcha! And _I don't love you_! How could I let you go on believing that I did? It would be unfair to both of us."

"I was nothing but good to you," he sneered.

"It has nothing to do with how good you were! I can't control how I feel!" Why couldn't he see that!

"You know, Bulma, I trusted you. I never would have thought you, of all people, could be so cruel."

"What are you talking about?" she sighed in anger and annoyance.

"You and that sorry excuse for a human being," he spat. "I saw him get in your car!"

"Vegeta?" she laughed, shaking her head. "I can't believe you're jealous, Yamcha."

"Yes, well, I never thought I'd _have to be_ jealous of someone so pathetic."

For almost a minute she said nothing in respond. And then, very slowly, she lifted her other arm, pointing at the door with a shaky finger.

"Get. Out," she said through her teeth.

"Bulma—" His voice had returned to pleading, but this time she had no sympathy.

"Get out Yamcha. I don't want to see you anymore."

End Flashback:

"So," Bulma said, setting her hand on top of Vegeta's, which was resting on the space between them. This time, instead of flinching and pulling away, he allowed her to touch him, even going so far as to curl his fingers under, holding her hand in place. "You look good. Nervous?"

"No," he laughed. "But your hand isn't exactly steady, Briefs."

She stole a glance at him, then focused back on the road ahead.

"It has nothing to do with the party."

* * *

Ahhh! Bulma's nervous because she really likes Vegeta! Aww! Isn't that sweet:D Heehee! I love this stuff—the awkwardness and excitement of a new relationship :P Hmm, so, yeah, I sort of explained why Bulma is so attached to Vegeta after only a week—she's just gotten out of a four-year relationship with Yamcha and the freedom is both exhilarating and frightening, so she feels she needs to be with a guy to feel comfortable…What else? Nothing I else. Heehee!

REVIEW for updates :P


	5. The Party

Last time:

"No," he laughed. "But your hand isn't exactly steady, Briefs."

She stole a glance at him, then focused back on the road ahead.

"It has nothing to do with the party."

* * *

Chapter 5: The Party

For the rest of the ride, both Bulma and Vegeta kept their mouths shut. Bulma because she was afraid that what she'd said might have pushed Vegeta away, and Vegeta because he couldn't believe that the plan was actually working. Why did she—who could have anyone she wanted—pick him? He hadn't even needed to persuade her to go out with him. From the moment he was trying to trip her, she was in control.

It was nearly 6:00 when they pulled into the parking lot at 17 and 18's apartment complex. Which really was theirs. Dr. Gero had been too involved in his work to get a house outside the city. He needed to be close, but didn't like the idea of paying someone else to live somewhere. So he did the next best thing—he bought an apartment building, had it refurbished, then moved into the biggest apartment, which could very well fit an entire house in it because it was so big. Then, after he died, his will stipulated that the building now belonged to 17 and 18, and they've been trying to sell it ever since.

Only a few other families lived in the building, a long with a several single businessmen and women. People who made enough money to be able to live in the heart of such a big city and in such a lavish place.

Vegeta climbed out of the car and sneered up at the towering building. So this is what he was going to have to ensure for Kami knows how many hours?

"Regretting it already?" Bulma laughed, slapping him on the back.

"No," he said without hesitation. She opened her mouth to speak, but he added, "I regretted it long before now." He took a step forward, ready to go on ahead, when something occurred to him. He waited for a heartbeat, waited for Bulma to be exactly next to him, then reached his arm out, taking her hand. If the plan was going to work, then he was going to have to make some effort as well. He couldn't be his closed-off self. Not so much, anyway.

Bulma smiled softly at the feel of his warm, calloused hand wrapped around hers. She was beginning to think that he really was annoyed by her and went along because…well, she really didn't have an end to that thought. But now, finally, she felt as though she wasn't just being strung along. It was amazing how quickly your life could change in such a short time. Already she was thinking about what was to come, if they would go on any actual dates, kiss, fool around, perhaps have sex. Not that she was planning on sleeping with him but, the more she thought about such things, the more she realized that she couldn't say she definitely wouldn't. She was never one for flings, but, on the other hand, she didn't think a person had to necessarily be "with" someone to be able to sleep with them. And, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't help but picture him as her boyfriend, eventually.

_I'm such a hypocrite,_ she thought bitterly. She'd broken up with Yamcha because she didn't want a long-distance relationship and here she was imagining Vegeta as her boyfriend.

"What are you doing Friday night?" he asked suddenly, monotone, emotionless. He'd asked out plenty of girls; this was nothing new to him.

She thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Nothing."

"Mind giving me a ride somewhere?"

She frowned and groaned audibly. And here she thought he was asking her on a date.

"Vegeta—"

"I'd drive us there myself, but I don't have a car."

She shut her open immediately, a slightly shade of crimson brushing across her cheeks.

"Where are we going?" she inquired, her smile returning.

"Not a chance, Briefs. You'll find out Friday."

* * *

"I still can't believe he came," Goku commented, watching Vegeta, who sat in the farthest corner he could, looking bored as 17 rambled on at him, idling drinking a beer.

"It didn't take much," Bulma said with a shrug, and reached into the fridge for another malt liquor. She didn't usually drink such fruity alcohol, but it was a party that they didn't want to get out of hand. A lot of them had jobs in the morning, or homework to do that they'd neglected all weekend. No, tonight wasn't about getting wasted and waking up with marker all over your face, though the twins did have those parties a lot. And Bulma always—_always_—drank vodka without a chaser. "I think, deep down, he wanted to come. Though, for a minute, I thought I'd screwed the whole thing up."

"How do you mean?" Goku wasn't drinking tonight. He wasn't even staying over; his grandfather needed help in his shop early tomorrow morning.

Bulma smiled sheepishly and bit her lip.

"Bulma," he said sternly. "What did you do?"

"I sort of…told Vegeta that I…know about your friendship."

"What!" He shouted so loud that everyone in the room looked up, momentarily distracted from whatever they'd been doing. "What?" he repeated, this time in a normal tone. "Why would you do that?"

"I didn't mean to," she protested with a heavy sigh. "It just sort of came out."

"Why didn't he yell at me?" Goku wondered out loud, his eyes falling on Vegeta once again.

Bulma shrugged. "Guess it didn't matter that much to him," she said, patting his arm. "I think I'm gonna go rescue him from 17's clutches though."

"Bulma!" 17 yelped, rubbing the back of his head where she'd playfully slapped him. "What the big idea?"

"Scoot bud," she said. "I want to talk with my date for a minute."

"Date?" 17 and Vegeta asked in unison.

Bulma only laughed and pulled 17 to his feet, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. "I love ya. Now get going."

It was 17's turn to laugh. He grabbed his wine cooler, then left them alone.

"Thanks," Vegeta sighed, leaning his head back. "I don't think he realizes he's able to shut his mouth."

"I think you're right," she laughed, and took the seat 17 had just vacated; right across from Vegeta. "So, about Friday."

"What about it?"

"Is it a date?" she asked bluntly. "Because—"

"Yes," he interrupted, his voice carrying finality. "It is."

She smiled and touched his knee.

"I'm probably gonna kiss you later," she confessed, only slightly tipsy due to the amount of alcohol she'd consumed. She was nowhere near drunk, and wouldn't be, but somehow the alcohol helped her say what she normally wouldn't have. Or at least not so soon.

"Why wait?" He smirked, and leaned forward.

"Why are you here, Vegeta?"

"Because you asked me to go."

"Why really? Why haven't you blown me off yet?"

He didn't answer, and when she went to repeat herself, he reached forward, placing his hand on the back of her head. With no resistance, he pulled her close to him, their lips touching softly at first. She dropped her drink on the floor and, while still kissing him, got out of her chair and climbed onto his lap, deepening the kiss. And the all the while her mind was racing, for she'd never experienced such an intense first kiss in all her life.

"Thanks," she whispered when they parted, her forehead resting on his.

"Oh you're welcome," he laughed, giving her another quick kiss. "I wasn't expecting you to be so easy."

"Fuck you," she hissed jokingly, and slapped him on the arm. "Don't you dare."

"Don't I dare what?" he inquired.

"Just shut up and kiss me, before I realize what an ass you are."

He needed no further persuasion.

* * *

Yamcha reclined in his lounge chair, a movie he'd seen a million times before playing on the TV before him. He knew, because Vegeta told him, that Bulma was at 17 and 18's apartment tonight and probably having the time of her life. It made him both bitter and content. Bitter because, of course, he wanted to be the one there, not Vegeta. And content because that meant that she was starting to like him and the plan was going perfectly.

He was still upset about what had occurred that morning with Bulma, because, no matter what he was paying Vegeta to do, he still wanted to be with her. And he was going to keep trying, hoping that she would realize sooner or later that she did love him and was just being silly about London. If not, then he still had his plan, his revenge. He could remember the day he'd sat down with Vegeta so vividly, every word of their conversation, because it sickened him that he had to go to such lengths to win Bulma back. But it also gave him satisfaction to know that he could get her back. It was a very conflicting situation.

Flashback:

"Make it quick, Rick Boy," Vegeta sneered, crossing his arms rigidly over his chest as he sat across from Yamcha, who sipped idly at his tea.

"Don't be so impatient, Vegeta. I'm paying you a lot of money to do this."

"Yeah, well, I think it's damn pathetic what you have to do to consider yourself a man."

Yamcha would never admit it, but that comment really hit home. He did feel pathetic, but his hurt and anger overshadowed it so much he didn't think about it.

"Fine then," he sighed. "Let's get to business." He leaned forward in a very professional-looking manner, his eyes set. He was bound and determined to have what he thought was rightfully his. "Do you understand the basics?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"What are they?"

"Are you serious?" he sneered.

"Very serious."

"Fucking…" he mumbled, trailing off, incoherent. "You want me to date your ex-girlfriend, then dump her when she's starting to really like me so she can know how you felt when she dumped you," he drawled on in a bored, but very sarcastic voice.

"Exactly. I already gave you $500, and I'll give you $100 for every date you go on with her. And then another $500 if you're successful."

"I get all this in cash?"

"No," Yamcha laughed, as if he were absolutely mad. "From now on I pay you in checks. Take it or leave it, this is how I'm paying you from now on."

"Whatever."

"Ok, I want to lay some ground rules. First, I don't want to hear about you sleeping with her. She can fall for you just as easily without that—she's a girl, they do it all the time. Second," he said, counting along on his fingers, "you have to be very public with her once you're in 'the zone'. Boyfriend/girlfriend, whatever. What I mean is, once you start 'dating' I want you two to be seen a lot. In school, at the mall, wherever people from school will see you and know what's going on. And when you break it off with her, it has to be very public as well, definitely in school, between classes or at lunch where everyone's around."

"So she's paying tenfold for dumping you?" Vegeta snorted. _What a creep_.

"Don't act so high-and-mighty with me, Ouji. You're the one taking money to break someone's heart."

"If you make one more comment like that you're going to have to find yourself another whore."

"Any questions?" Yamcha asked, ignoring his last statement.

"Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to get _Bulma Briefs_ to like me?"

"Oh, that's simple."

"Yes, it appears so," he bit sarcastically.

"Act uninterested in her at first, then, when she starts to like you, act like you can't get enough of her."

"This deal doesn't involve any romance, Rich Boy."

"Of course not," he laughed. "Bulma hates romance. Buy her flowers and she'll throw them in your face."

"Are we done now?" he asked impatiently.

"Yeah, I think so. Call me whenever you two go out so I know when to pay you."

"Yeah."

"See you around."

"Whatever."

End Flashback:

* * *

"So."

Vegeta looked up to find a stunning, yet rough-looking blonde standing over him. She smiled almost menacingly and took the seat Bulma had just left to spend some time with the birthday boy. Vegeta had yet to even acknowledge him.

"18?"

"That's me. I just figured that if I'm going to try to get you on board with my company then I should at least introduce myself."

"You're nothing like your yippity brother," he commented bluntly.

"No," she laughed. "Me and 17 are very different." She tilted her head slightly to the side, as if seeing something for the first time.

"What?"

"You'd be more attractive if you smiled once in awhile."

Vegeta offered her a grimace and she rolled her eyes.

"We should get together sometime."

This time he gave her a blank look.

"I'm serious."

"I haven't known you two minutes."

"Yeah, I know, but I think we'll be good together."

"You have a boyfriend," he pointed out.

"Not like that, you moron. As friends."

"I don't have friends."

"Oh, Mr. Bitter Anti-Social. Loosen up a little; it might help with your pursuit of Bulma."

"What do you want to do?"

Her was her turn to be confused.

"When we 'get together', what do you want to do?"

"So you're agreeing to hang out with me?"

He nodded.

"Brilliant." She smiled and patted his head. "I'll call—"

"I don't have a phone."

"Ok then." She thought for a moment. "Why don't you call me when you're free? I'll come pick you up and we can hang out here. Play some video games, get smashed, whatever."

Against his will, Vegeta actually cracked a smile.

"See, more attractive," she said as she stood to leave. "Well, I better get back to the boyfriend. Don't get too drunk now."

_I feel like a fucking sideshow_, he thought in annoyance, and downed the rest of his beer.

* * *

OMG! They kissed! I'm so happy! I mean, I know I'm the one "controlling" them, but it still gets me excited. I love first kisses in stories :) How did you like it? Or the flashback where we find out exactly what the deal is? Huh? Huh? Let me know:D

REVIEW to read on :P


	6. The Nameless Grave

Last time:

Against his will, Vegeta actually cracked a smile.

"See, more attractive," she said as she stood to leave. "Well, I better get back to the boyfriend. Don't get too drunk now."

_I feel like a fucking sideshow_, he thought in annoyance, and downed the rest of his beer.

* * *

Chapter 6: The Nameless Grave

Bulma was waiting at the bus stop by the time Vegeta arrived, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder casually. She offered to put it in the trunk for him, but he insisted on doing it—it was part of the surprise. And then he asked to drive the car.

"Do you have your license?" she asked wryling, her index finger running across the top of the steering wheel.

Instead of answering, he bent down and kissed her, sending the wonderful electricity through her she'd been missing all week. He'd been so busy with work and school that they'd only seen each other in passing (though neither were quite ready to announce their courtship publicly yet). She slipped over the middle with minimal difficulty and settled herself in the passengers seat.

"Are you ever going to let me see where you live?"

"Nope."

He pealed out into the road and she smiled.

The drive lasted a little over an hour, and by the time they arrived it was already dark. He pulled up in front of a small deli where a closed sign hung in its dingy window.

"What—"

"Put this on," he instructed, handing her a strip of black fabric.

"Put it on? Where?"

"Over your eyes," he said as if it was phenomenally obvious and she was wasting his time. "I don't want you to know where we're going until we're there."

"We're not there yet?" Where the hell was he taking her!

"It's around the corner. Two minutes."

"Vegeta, I don't—"

"Trust me." And he said it in such a way that she could never have argued. She tied on the blindfold and sighed, praying that she hadn't misread this man beside her and he was about to take her into the woods and hack her to bits. She knew she was being irrational, but, then again, you could never know someone completely.

"This better be worth it, Ouji."

"That's the plan." He started the engine again and, true to his word, he pulled the car to a stop some two to five minutes later. Bulma reached up to undo the blindfold, when he caught her by the wrist. "Not yet." She heard him climb out of the car, slamming the door. A moment later he was beside her, helping her out and onto a poorly managed sidewalk. The air smelled fresh, like clean, cold snow. She breathed it in with satisfaction, but hoped for the warmth of somewhere inside. "Here." He still had her arm and was leading her down the sidewalk, turning right, then going straight for sometime before he turned left and stopped, leading her up three short steps and through a doorway.

It was considerably warmer inside, wherever they were, and especially after he shut the door. She felt the room go black, for she could see nothing. And then, little by little, points of light began to brighten. She smelled matches and the wax of candles, the coldness of stone and an earthy smell of dirt or mud.

"Vegeta?"

"Hang on," he all but snapped.

She heard him set down the duffel bag, and then he was away from her, pulling things from the bag. There was a clunk and noises like glass hitting glass and metal hitting metal. And then there was silence.

His lips touched hers before she knew he was in front of her again, his hands coming up behind her head to remove the blindfold.

She gasped. She couldn't help it. Not only at the fact of where they were, but how beautiful he'd made it, lighting candles around the small room for light. And the food! That's what had been in the duffel bag—a cooler with picnic food.

"Are we in a tomb?" she asked, noting the sense of personality the room held.

"Correct." He pulled her to him, walking backwards onto the flannel blanket he'd supplied for them to sit and eat on.

"Whose?"

"My parents," he answered bluntly, as if this were normal, to bring someone to a graveyard tomb on their first real date. He pointed to the farthest candle from them and Bulma wondered how she'd missed it before. It was so obvious now. There were two plaques, each one bearing the name of a parent. The one to the left read: Vegeta Ouji the First, noble husband and father. And the second read: Ouji, loving wife and mother.

"Why is her name rubbed off?" Though to be more accurate, it appeared as though the name had been chiseled off, and very crudely.

"My father never could deal with her death," he explained, his voice firm and in control. This was clearly something he'd gotten over (or convinced himself he'd gotten over) a long while ago. "She died in childbirth, and long before I ever came here he'd erased her name. He was angry that she left him to raise me alone."

"And him?" she inquired cautiously. "How did he…go?"

"There was an explosion at the company he owed. All but a few workers and administrators died. They never could tell me how it happened." He shrugged and poured two glasses of wine, handing one to her. "Anyway, my father had built this tomb for the family. My place is there." He pointed to the space beneath his parents' plaques, a gaping hole in the wall. "That's the only reason he's even in here. When the company burnt up, so did all he was made of. My father never trusted banks and kept all his savings in a vault in the basement. Everything was gone."

"Is that why you brought me here?" she asked, setting her hand on his knee casually. "To tell me about yourself?"

He nodded, taking a gulp of wine. In him she sensed a hesitation and a want for something. She moved over so she was right beside him, rather than diagonal, and laid her head on his shoulder.

"This is the best first date I've ever been on," she said in what she hoped was a reassuring voice, though she was sure she was trembling. What was it about him that made her want to be completely honest? She reasoned it was his brutal honesty, but there was something else too. Something harder to find. And she wondered if he would be in her life long enough for her to figure it out. "I'm glad you brought me here."

"It's more of a fifth date thing," he said offhandedly. "But—"

"Is there going to be a fifth date?"

"There will if I have something to say about it." He sounded almost offended, but she knew him well enough to know that it was just his personality getting in the way of what he was really trying to communicate. That being that he liked her and wanted to go on more dates.

"I don't think I want there to be any more dates."

He was so surprised by her statement that he dropped the wine glass, it's contents spilling and the glass shattering into a hundred tiny pieces. And all Bulma could do was laugh, hold her side and laugh.

"What the hell is so damn funny!" he snapped, paying no mind to the ruined glass.

"You," she sighed, leaning into him. He, however, would have none of that and pushed her away harshly. "What?"

"We should go."

"Oh Vegeta." She grabbed his face and pulled him to her before he could get away, kissing him with such force and intensity that his previous anger was nearly forgotten. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm saying I don't want to bother with dating nonsense when I know I want to be with you."

This, however, did not give him the reassure it should have. How had they gone so far in such a short amount of time? She wanted to be his girlfriend for Kami's sake! This was _not_ good. But, then again, who said he wasn't allowed to have fun with this while it lasted? Wasn't the goal to have her as his girlfriend, then dumped her?

He returned the kiss, pulling her into his lap.

"Ok then," he said with finality. "You're mine."

"Good. Because I wasn't going to let you say no."

* * *

How many secrets did she have from her, the chocolate-eyed girl that sat beside her on the bed? And she was supposed to be her best friend, someone she could and should tell everything to. Of course there were others involved, preventing her from telling certain truths, but then there were other things.

Bulma sighed almost dramatically, catching Chi-Chi's attention.

"What?" she asked, setting down one of the hundred magazines Mrs. Briefs subscribed Bulma to, though she never opened them, let alone read them. Chi-Chi was more of the girly-girl in the group, 18 being the farthest extreme—so much like her brother, yet so much like Vegeta, who she'd been spending some time with during school lately.

"I have to tell you something important."

"Ok. You have my attention." She tried to keep her voice calm, but the last time Bulma was this serious with her she dropped a major bombshell. Five months ago she and Yamcha had a pregnancy-scare, which Chi-Chi and the others reasoned was another reason for the recent break-up.

"You know why I broke up with Yamcha," she began, not able to look her directly in the eye.

Chi-Chi nodded. Of course she knew. They'd only just had a conversation about it when it happened.

"I didn't love him, and I didn't want a long distance relationship because of London…Well…I think I'm going to be in hot water with him, Chi…Me and Vegeta are…together now."

"Are you serious!" She could never have kept her grin at bay, even if she'd attempted it. "When did this happen!"

"Three weeks ago," she sighed, looking at the floor. "We agreed to keep it a secret for a while, because of the Yamcha issue," she added quickly, her words almost blending together. "But I couldn't keep something like this from you. I've been trying to tell you ever since…"

"That's why you've been so sketchy!" Chi-Chi laughed. "Oh B! I'm happy for you two. I'm glad you're not letting what happened with Yamcha ruin what you could have with Vegeta, though I have to say I'm not so sure about the guy. I mean, you obviously know something the rest of us don't."

"The twins are enamored by him," Bulma chuckled. "He's over at the apartment right now with 18. And 17's lurking in the shadows no doubt."

"Are you sure this isn't just a rebound, B? I mean, not even a month after you break up with Yamcha and you're dating Vegeta."

"I know it's fast, but I…I don't know. It just feels right. I didn't feel this way with Yamcha, Chi. Something's different, and I don't want pass that up just because everyone else thinks I'm taking things too fast."

"Have you two…" she trailed off, giving a suggestive lift of her eyebrow.

"Chi-Chi Mau!" Bulma exclaimed playfully. "What an inappropriate question!"

"That's a no then?"

"Yeah…I don't know if it's me or him, but when we're alone together it just never gets to that. Maybe I'm not ready to be with another person after having only slept with one guy all my life…Or, maybe it's because he's not comfortable at my house. We don't have many options though. He won't let me within two blocks of his apartment."

"Can't you look up his address on the database?"

"I could, but I promised him I wouldn't."

"Wow, B. You're in love with him, aren't you?" And though she laughed as she said it, the seriousness couldn't be denied.

"No," she answered quickly. A little too quickly. And Chi-Chi caught something in her eyes or voice, something that she couldn't quite read. She couldn't tell if she was lying or not, or maybe just unsure of the answer herself. But it was very obvious that she didn't want it to be true, that she wasn't ready to admit such a thing. She had never thought of Bulma as the lovey type anyway, her main reason for not really questioning her about Yamcha. She'd always sort of known. But this thing with Vegeta—Yes, Bulma was right, it was different. Very different. "But," she added after a considerable amount of time, "I don't think I'd tell him even if I did, or do in the future."

"Why not?"

"If you don't know, then we're obviously not thinking of the same person," Bulma laughed, and hit her playfully on the knee. "Come on. Whatever my mom's cooking is making my stomach growl."

* * *

"Fuck," he swore, and jumped back, covering his mouth with his hand. "Fuck. I shouldn't have done that."

She stared at him in disbelief, though with a certain amount of curiosity. She had completely underestimated and misread this man.

"It's…fine," she said, unsure of whether that was true or not.

"No, it's not," he snapped. "Fuck."

"It was just a—"

"Bulma's my girlfriend!" he blurted out in fear and annoyance at his own stupidity.

"Oh…Shit. Look," she grabbed his wrist, forcing him to pay attention. "I won't tell anyone, and neither will you. I mean, if Krillin found out you kissed me, he'd try to kill you. And Bulma, well, she'd kill you too."

"Give me that bottle." But before she could touch it, he'd already snatched it away and chugged a good two shots worth of Vodka.

"You really like her, don't you?"

He took a swig, then looked at her, almost blankly.

"Excuse me?"

"Bulma. You really like her. That's why you're acting like this."

"It's a complicated situation," he said truthfully, though she could never know what he meant. But it wasn't just the Yamcha thing. It was what had been happening to him since day one of "the plan". Bulma had surprised him at every turn, and, no matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, he found that he did have something of feelings for her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it or explain them, but something was definitely there. And then there was 18—strong, capable, beautiful 18—his exact opposite. He was drawn to her in the strangest way. It had nothing to do with sex, though, on first instinct, he'd kissed her, thinking that's what his mind was telling him he wanted. Now, after that was out of the way, he saw what was really there. She could be his companion, a friend like Goku, though public. "I don't know why I did that," he said when five minutes had passed. "I don't like you."

"Thanks," she scoffed, though she knew what he meant. "I figured that out on my own, though."

"And yes, you're right."

"Right? About what?"

"Bulma," he groaned, leaning back, the icy Vodka bottle resting on his hip.

"You mean that you like her?"

"Yeah…" And, as the words rolled off his tongue, he realized they were completely true and had nothing to do with what Yamcha was paying him for. It was then that he decided, the next time he saw him—which wouldn't be for nearly a month, because it was winter break and today was their first day of it—he would tell him the deal was over. Until then, he would enjoy himself. "I'm gonna go."

"Want a ride?"

"No." He handed her the Vodka, then grabbed his coat off the chair beside him.

"It's the middle of winter, Vegeta. And you're not exactly sober. Let me drive you."

"I need to walk this off," he said forcefully. "Bye."

The icy evening air brushed at his face, soothing his haziness. He wasn't drunk, not by a long shot, but enough so that he wouldn't have been able to operate a vehicle safely. After two blocks he knew he'd made the right choice in deciding to walk. Bulma's house was about four miles from the twins' apartment, which gave him ample time to shake off his tipsiness.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" he sighed aloud, shoving his hands in his pockets, his gloveless fingers making contact with a piece of paper. He pulled it out and frowned: two crisp one hundred dollar bills courtesy of Yamcha.

Without another thought, he opened his hand, allowing the wind to carry the money away.

* * *

Chapter 6:) I know they are going fast, first their first kiss and now they're dating. But it has to be fast (it's a sort of Romeo and Juliet thing—but don't worry, no one's going to die!). There are certain things I'm doing with this story, and I don't want to drag it out. Trust me :P

REVIEW to read on :P


	7. It's Time

Last time:

"What the hell is wrong with me?" he sighed aloud, shoving his hands in his pockets, his gloveless fingers making contact with a piece of paper. He pulled it out and frowned: two crisp one hundred dollar bills courtesy of Yamcha.

Without another thought, he opened his hand, allowing the wind to carry the money away.

* * *

Chapter 7: It's Time

It was nearly ten o'clock when Vegeta arrived at Capsule Corp., his fingers and face numb from the cold. But he was sober, that was beyond question. He climbed the stairs to the front door and knocked, the skin around his knuckles seeming to crack they were so icy.

"Vegeta, sweety," said Mrs. Briefs as she answered the door, immediately pulling him into a hug. "How are you?"

"Fine," he said shortly.

"I'll go get Bulma." She hurried off into the housing complex, leaving him to stand alone in the foyer, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. As he waited, he took in his surroundings, having never been in this part of the house for more than a few seconds—any other time he was there, Bulma brought him there. This was the first time he'd shown up unannounced. "She says to just go upstairs," came Mrs. Briefs' voice. He turned, almost startled, having not heard her approach.

He nodded, kicking off his boots, then made his way through the living room to the stairs. It wasn't until he reached her bedroom door that he realized there was snow in his hair, and all over his coat. But she had her arms flung around him before he could do anything about it, her face buried in his cold neck.

Her hand around his elbow, she pulled him into the empty room, closing the door, and sat him on the bed. Her eyes traveled the contours of his face, and then she made the most peculiar expression.

"What?" he asked, frowning.

"What's wrong?"

He didn't know why, but he just blurted it out, spilling his infant secret to her.

"I kissed 18."

For a long time Bulma said nothing, her eyes focused on him, unnerving him.

"Bulma?"

And then she smiled and hugged him.

"What the hell?" he murmured, pushing her back. Not that he wasn't relieved, but he needed an explanation.

"Well you obviously don't like her," she said offhandedly, her smile growing.

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because you told me, stupid," she laughed. "If you actually liked her, you would have never told me and tried to pursue something with her. Not that that could happen, though. She loves Krillin far too much," she added before he could say anything.

"I still don't get it." How was it that she was so perfect? "I _kissed_ her."

"Yeah, but you didn't mean it."

"Yes," he insisted. "I did."

"Fine then." And for the first time since he'd arrived she frowned, but only just slightly. "You tell me how it happened if you're so hell bent on arguing."

"We've been hanging out a lot," he began angrily. What made her so positive that he wasn't cheating on her? She didn't know him that well. Did she? Was he made so transparent by her that she knew all there was to know about him? "I just came from her apartment. We were drinking and watching a movie. And I kissed her."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why did you kiss her? Surely there was a reason. You don't just kiss someone."

"Because," he said through his teeth, "I thought I liked her."

"Right there," Bulma laughed. "You _thought_ you liked her. And when you kissed her you realized you didn't."

"How the hell could you know that?" he demanded.

"I know more about you than you think, Vegeta."

"Woman—" But he was silenced immediately as she pulled him to her, kissing him deeply, passionately. All anger and apprehension left him as he lowered her slowly to the bed, his hand on her face. A strange sensation flooded him, something he'd never known before. He wanted to sleep with her, but only when she wanted to. He didn't want to make the first move, to make her feel that she needed to be with him that way.

"My parents never check on me," she whispered huskily, and her fingers crawled down the length of his torso, stopping at his belt buckle.

"What are you implying, woman?" His voice came out almost as a purr. Had he ever wanted a woman more than he wanted her right now?

"This." She undid his buckle, pulling the belt through the loops and let it fall to the floor. His pants, heavily soaked around the ankles, were somewhat tougher to remove, but she managed very well. His plain white t-shirt was last, beside his boxers, which she left on, smirking devilishly up at him. "You can touch me too, you know," she breathed, with a hint of a giggle.

He grunted at her, and tugged off her shirt, almost sloppily. He threw it on the floor, then went for her skirt, a simple jean-number that went to her ankles. When she was only in her underwear—matching navy blue satin, with black lace trim—he had to force himself to stop and admire her. If he were to somehow screw up their relationship (because of course there was still the possibility that she could find everything out), then he wanted to have this moment burned into his memory.

Her eyes. Her perfectly flushed cheeks. The way her hair fell over her forehead, diagonal and a little bit frizzy, muzzed. The tautness of her neck, and the heaving of her breasts.

"Bulma," he whispered, his voice sounding false and far too soft. But only because it was so genuine, so unused to passing through his lips. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the perfume of her shampoo, memorizing the scent. _Who am I_? he wondered briefly, then leaned up, kissing her lips sweetly. This was no time for wonder, it was a time for action.

"Vegeta, are you nervous?" And there was nothing comical in her voice this time.

"Shut up," he snapped, but there was no force behind it. Only a plea for patience.

"I think I'm falling for you," she whispered.

Vegeta's entire body stiffened. He looked straight into her eyes, almost begging her to take it back. He'd been so wrong about her. If he was smart, he would leave right now, break it off before he had a chance to really hurt her.

_Just get up_, he willed himself, clenching his fists. _Just get up and walk out. She never has to know why. Just go!_

"Vegeta? I didn't mean to shock you. I just—"

"It's fine," he managed to murmur, looking away.

"I really don't expect a thing from you, you know. I just wanted to let you know. I thought you _should_ know."

"I know." _Yeah right!_

He pulled himself up and sat at the edge of the bed, his hands gripping his knees so hard they would no doubt leave marks. He honestly had no idea what to do, how to handle the situation. But what bothered him the most, was that six months ago—hell, the moment before he got into Bulma's car—he would never had had this problem. If it was then, he could continue on, knowing that in the end her heart would be broken and he was have rent money. He supposed that if she were any other girl, any other bimbo with no brains but a great rack, then this wouldn't be an issue. But there was just something to mesmerizing about her, something he thought about constantly, trying to pin point.

He flinched as she touched his shoulder, and jerked away.

"Vegeta—"

"Just shut up a minute," he hissed. He needed time to think, time to assess everything. If he proceeded, then he was accepting her love, allowing her to love him under false pretenses. If he left, he ran the risk if hurting her just as badly, for he didn't know just how deeply she felt for him at the moment. And then there was the third option—he could tell her everything and let the chips fall where they may.

The first option obviously had the most appeal. The second seemed wisest, and the third, well, that one just didn't seem logical at all. Why hurt her more than she needed to be hurt?

"I have to go," he said, and stood, grabbing his clothes as he went. He was fully dressed and at the door before he realized that she hadn't tried to stop him, hadn't even said a word. He turned towards her, questioning her with his eyes.

"I ruined it, didn't I? What I said ruined it." She was very solemn and calm, but underneath he could see her falling apart. And he couldn't be the one to do that.

Peeling off his shirt, he walked back over, sat down, pulled off his pants, then looked at her.

"Let's pretend that never happened," he said.

She smiled. "I agree."

* * *

Bulma leaned against the door Vegeta just walked out and released a heavy, satisfied sigh. It was two hours after he'd arrived, and the only reason he left was because he had to work the next day.

She composed herself as best as she could, then went back upstairs to make a very important phone call.

"Hello?—Shit!"

"What was that?" Bulma asked, laughing.

"Krillin," 18 grumbled. "I went to answer the phone, but he held onto my ankle. Little fucker almost made me fall over."

"Nice one."

"Shut up. This better be good. You interrupted—"

"Oh it's good," she assured her, not wanting to hear the details of her and Krillin's sex life.

"So he bought it then?" she chuckled. "I knew he would. So gullible."

"He was skeptical, but I convinced him to stay. And 18, oh my God! Yamcha _never_ made me feel what I felt tonight with Vegeta. I swear—well, I'll spare you the details."

"Thanks."

"Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for the heads up. How did you know he was going to tell me though?"

"Why else would he go to your house directly after? I mean, with what I told you, how could he not?"

"I guess I can see that. I'm just glad I found out before he told me," she sighed. "Otherwise I might have made a huge mistake. He was acting funny though."

"When?"

"I…I sort of…I told him Imightbefallingforhim."

"Can you try that again in a language we both speak?"

"I told him I might be falling for him…"

"But he stayed?"

"Yes."

"How was he acting funny?"

Bulma sighed loudly, not wanting to remember that moment.

"He just stopped kissing me and sat up. And when I tried to explain myself, that I wasn't expecting anything in return, he got up and got dressed, ready to leave."

"What made him stay?"

"I honestly don't know. I said something about how I ruined everything, and he just walked back and…you know."

"He didn't say anything?"

"He said we should pretend it never happened."

"That kid surprises me everyday. I'd keep both eyes on him, B."

"Thanks for the advice," Bulma laughed.

"No problem. I'll see ya."

"Yup. Bye."

Se hung up the phone slowly, her mind wondering all over the place. Who was this man that she was falling for? He was so volatile, so harsh. Yet, at certain moments, he could be the sweetest person she knew. It was both sides that drew her in, both that made her…love him.

"Do I love him?" she asked aloud.

She walked over to the bed and sat down. Then suddenly she noticed a folded piece of paper on her bedside table that hadn't been there before. She opened it, recognizing Vegeta's handwriting, which meant he must have written it when she was in the bathroom before he left.

_Don't regret anything you do. You're perfect.__I had my doubts, but you made me see what I __should do. So from this point on it's no regrets. __Ok?_

"Yes," Bulma whispered, folding the note back up. "I do."

* * *

First Day After Winter Break:

Vegeta stormed down the corridors, fuming over yet another fight he and Bulma had managed to drag themselves into. Nothing serious, but nothing productive. He loved their brawls, but he could never help being so angry he wanted to tell her she'd been paid for. He could never say this, of course. But the thought was still there.

"Vegeta!"

He groaned so loudly the freshman girl in front of him jumped and walked faster.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"I think the time is right," Yamcha said, grinning ear to ear. "I just overheard a conversation with Goku and 18. Congrates," he laughed, smacking him on the back. "You made her fall in love with you!"

Vegeta's pulse stopped completely. The last he knew she was _falling_ for him. When did she decide she actually loved him!

"Uh, yeah," Vegeta said, trying to brush it off.

"I think in a week you should do it. In the cafeteria." He slipped a freshly written check into Vegeta's palm. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, my friend. I'll look forward to the show next week."

* * *

One Week Later:

"Bulma, you _have_ to marry me," Vegeta blurted out, grabbing her by the arms almost roughly to be sure he had her full attention. Though the word "marry" did a perfect job in itself.

"Why do I _have_ to marry you?" she asked in a very controlled and steady voice, appearing calm. On the inside, however, she was bursting. And maybe still just a little bitter from their last brawl. "We fight all the time."

"Because," he sighed in annoyance. "We'll never be bored." And be began ticking off his fingers as he went. "We'll always surprise each other. We're perfect, Bulma, and you know it. Don't tell me you're going to deny it."

"You're not giving me a good enough reason," she bit crossly.

Vegeta took a deep breath. "If I give you one, will you marry me tonight?"

* * *

Haha! That's where I'm ending the chapter! Muhahahaha! I know I'm evil, I can't help it…I realize that I jumped around a lot this chapter and that a lot of time passed, but it was very necessary. The very end was obviously a big shock, but don't worry, I plan on using a flashback to explain myself :)

REVIEW to read on!

P.S. I know the note Vegeta leaves is very OOC, but it was a sort of confession that he needed to get out if he could proceed.


	8. Wedding Bells

Last time:

"You're not giving me a good enough reason," she bit crossly.

Vegeta took a deep breath. "If I give you one, will you marry me tonight?"

* * *

Chapter 8: Wedding Bells

Flashback:

"I made it very clear what I wanted!" he yelled, shoving Vegeta into the nearest wall. And Vegeta, definitely not being one to take something like that and especially from someone like him, did what came naturally—he slugged him in the face, then harder in the gut. "Don't fucking touch me, you scum," he hissed. "You'd be starving if it wasn't for me."

"Are you asking for a bruise on the other cheek to match, Rich Boy?" Vegeta retorted, his voice calm but his fists shaking violently at his sides. He thanked whoever that it was between classes and no one was around to interrupt them. And he prayed for a chance to get in a few more shots. "Because I haven't given you a fraction of what you deserve." He lifted his arm, ready for round two, when Yamcha gasped out two earth-shattering words.

"The checks!"

Vegeta halted, fist in mid-air. Had he heard right?

Yamcha climbed to his feet, rubbing his sore cheek. And then he smiled. A smile so evil that even Vegeta wanted to be sick.

"You say I deserve a beating, huh Vegeta?" He held the check receipts in his hands, proof of what Vegeta had done, proof to crush him. But what he was really holding is power. He had the upper hand and he was pissed. And Vegeta understood it fully, because he'd used such tactics himself. "Well what about you? You accepted a lot of money to pretend to date Bulma. I'm sure she'll agree that you deserve a hell of a beating as well when I show her these receipts."

"I won't hurt her!" Vegeta blurted out, having to take a step back to keep from punching him in the face again.

"So that's what this is about?" Yamcha laughed. "And here I thought you just wanted more time for more money. But you've fallen for her, haven't you?"

Vegeta said nothing as he imagined Yamcha being run over by a steamroller.

"Well I can see how. Perhaps I should have warned you, huh? She has this unbelievable power over people. Well, men to be more accurate." He slipped the receipts back in his pocket. "I'm giving you one more chance, Vegeta. You have another full week to break off this make-believe relationship. If by the end of next week she's not alone, I'm telling her everything. Am I clear this time?"

Again Vegeta said nothing.

"Hello! _Am I clear, Vegeta_!"

"Yes!" he hissed through his teeth.

"Good. And one more thing." Before Vegeta had a chance to move, Yamcha had landed a stinging punch to his jaw. "Payback, Ouji. Don't ever hit me again, because I can do a lot worse than taking Bulma from you. I suggest you do as you're told. But then you're used to that, aren't you?" He turned to walk away, then, over his shoulder, said, "One week, Vegeta. She's going to hurt either way. You decide how much."

End Flashback:

* * *

She paused, staring at him in the most perplexed way and then, in a low voice, said, "Yes. I will." Her heart couldn't have been more tightened had she been about to jump from a plane without a parachute. What the hell was she doing, agreeing to marry someone she'd been dating for less than six months?

He smiled, then frowned immediately after, and took another, deeper, breath.

"I," he began, but the words fell from his lips. It was such a simple phrase, just seemingly meaningless words. Yet, to most everyone, they held a world of meaning. "I…I…Bulma, I—"

"That's good enough." She smiled and walked towards the coat rack to get her things. "Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I understand."

She was already halfway to the car by the time he caught up with her, twirling her around before she could touch the handle.

"What?"

"I think you forgot something back there."

She looked up at the house, thoughtful for a moment, then back at him. "I didn't forget anything." But then it dawned on her and her face broke out in the most devious grin she could have mustered. "You mean I forgot to _say_ something?"

But he was far too much himself to let her win that easily. He'd already given her what she wanted. He made his sacrifice. He wasn't about to make another.

He said nothing, glaring heatedly at her.

She stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. "I love you too, Vegeta." She leaned back, kissing him lusciously on the lips. "We should hurry though. I think the courthouse closes soon."

"We're not going to the Justice of the Peace," he said matter-of-factly.

"But—"

"Kakarot's grandfather's minister agreed to marry us tonight. He's expecting us in two hours, which gives you some time to buy a dress."

Bulma's eyes lit up and she jumped into his arms, her spindly legs wrapped around his waist.

"I love you so much," she whispered. "No regrets."

For an instant he wanted to take it all back and run, his tail between his legs, and do what Yamcha had demanded of him. He knew in his heart that she would hurt ten times more this way, but he just couldn't bring himself to be the one to actually break it off. She'd become too important, too much a part of his life. Besides, he'd reasoned, once married it would be a lot harder to separate. He'd have more time to explain himself and get her to listen.

"No regrets," he repeated, and carried her to her car.

Tomorrow, he'd decided, he would tell Goku _everything_.

* * *

Bulma examined the rings Vegeta had bought, while he drove them to the small chapel just outside the city. As far as she could tell they were real silver, which meant they were expensive. How had he come up with so much money so quickly? Or had he used what he'd saved up?

_Oh well_, she thought with a smile. _Once everyone knows we're married, he's moving in with me._

She knew her parents, or at least her mother, wouldn't be so angry as to not allow him to live at Capsule Corp. Mrs. Briefs adored him and her father was hardly around long enough to remember his name, let alone approve. Their friends, on the other hand, might take it harder. And she didn't even want to think about what Yamcha would do when he found out.

"So Gohan knows but Goku doesn't?" Bulma asked for what could very well have been the tenth time.

"Do you want to get married or not?" Vegeta retorted. "No, Kakarot doesn't know. Gohan promised not to tell him, and he's agreed to be our witness."

"Did I tell you I love you?"

The minute they pulled up to the church, Bulma was out the door, searching for the nearest bathroom. In the dead of winter, she didn't want to get anything on her new white dress. That, and the groom wasn't supposed to see the bride before she walked down the aisle.

She surprised herself, and Vegeta, by only taking fifteen minutes to get dressed and do her hair and make-up. Gohan, who had been waiting outside the bathroom, informed Vegeta and the minister that she was ready, and the organist started up the music. It took Bulma to walk halfway down the aisle before Vegeta even took her dress into account. Her face, framed so perfectly by her aquamarine hair, was all he could look at. But the dress was phenomenal as well. And especially for being picked out in only twenty minutes. From the waist to her chest was what looked like a bodice only silky. It was attached to the rest of the dress, which flowed past her feet (in plain white high heels). Around the bottom of the dress were four rose-colored flowers attached where the bottom came up slightly, creating a sort of V, showing the tool underneath. It had straps that fell off the shoulders and the whole thing had a slight silvery tinge to it, Her veil she chose to not wear in her face, but behind her head, giving him a generous view of her face (I stole the dress design from Friends when Phoebe and Mike got married, if that helps). Her hair hung in ringlets, resting on her shoulders and matched the bouquet that Gohan had bought for her. She'd always adored the old man, but now more than ever.

"Is this really happening?" Bulma whispered when she was across from Vegeta, looking stiff, but otherwise happy, in his tux. She noticed apprehension in his eyes, but didn't hold it against him. She was feeling exacting what he was feeling right now.

"You bet your ass," Vegeta laughed.

The minister cleared his throat and gave Vegeta a cross look for swearing, then began the ceremony. And before they knew it they were to the "I dos". Bulma's entire body seized up in anticipation, but it was Vegeta who went first.

"Do you, Vegeta Ouji, take Bulma Briefs to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death till you part?"

He hesitated for the smallest fraction of a second, then smirked and said, "I do."

"And do you Bulma Briefs, take Vegeta Ouji to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death till you part?"

"I do," she whispered. And then, realizing she probably wasn't loud enough repeated herself for everyone present to hear.

"The rings?"

Gohan leaned over, a huge grin plastered on his face, and handed the minister the rings, who in turn handed the bigger one to Bulma and the smaller to Vegeta.

"No regrets," Vegeta said as he slipped the ring on her finger, feeling an icy chill run through him. This was it. There was no going back now. And he hated himself more than ever.

"No regrets," Bulma repeated, and did the same.

"Oh! Kiss already!" Gohan yelled playfully, receiving a friendly smile from the minister.

"You heard the man," he laughed. "Kiss her, son."

Vegeta didn't need to be told twice. He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing his new wife with such passion he almost forgot there were other people around.

* * *

"Ready?" Bulma asked, taking Vegeta's hand. They were standing outside the twins' apartment building, where just inside was everyone they knew. Bulma's parents had already been taken care of that morning—and like she'd figured they were happy, but surprised and wanted to throw them a party with family the following weekend—and so tonight they were going to tell everyone else. The only person Vegeta really cared to speak with was Goku, but he figured once their secret was out the place would go into an uproar and they'd be able to slip out with no problem.

"Just open the door, woman."

"That's Mrs. Ouji to you," she laughed. "Wow. That's so weird." She glanced down at her ring, then opened the door. They walked directly into an elevator and pressed the button marked M for Master Suite. Once there, the doors wouldn't open until someone inside buzzed them in.

"So what's this about?" 18 asked the second they stepped into the apartment, hand in hand. Vegeta glared at her, then slipped away to sit in the living room with everyone else. 17 immediately engaged him in conversation, and the others were simply sitting around, watching TV, and generally having a normal Saturday afternoon. Goku would glance at him every few seconds, as if he were eager to say something, but he remained across the room with Chi-Chi.

"What do you mean?" Bulma asked nonchalantly, hiding her smile expertly. "Vegeta and I just wanted to hang out with everyone. What's wrong with that?"

"I'll tell you—"

"Vegeta!" Everyone's attention turned to Goku, who was on his feet, his finger pointed almost accusingly at him. Bulma could feel the tension in the air, the way everyone was staring, what they must be thinking. Goku and Vegeta were only friends to Bulma. But surely now everyone would know. "What is that on your finger!"

"Holy fuck," 18 whispered. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You two got married!"

"That's ridiculous," Chi-Chi laughed. "Why would they get married without tell—Oh Kami," she gasped, noticing Bulma's ring, matching perfectly with Vegeta's. "It's true. Bulma, how—"

"Listen," Bulma interrupted. "Before you guys yell at us, it was a spur of the moment thing. Vegeta had it all planned and he asked me at the last minute. And—"

"Bulma, it's fine," Chi-Chi sighed, coming over to her. "It's just…well, I wish I could have been there is all."

"Chi, I wanted you to be. I wanted everyone to—"

"Bulma, would you shut up?" 17 laughed. "We're all happy for you. Now get your ass over here and tell me everything."

* * *

Vegeta wanted to slap him, that stupid grin plastered across his face like he knew what was going on. But he didn't. He was in for a huge surprise, and Vegeta realized that it might be the second time this month that he was hit by someone, and deserved it. He hated to admit it, but he'd deserved it when Yamcha hit him. Maybe not from Yamcha himself, but for all he'd done he definitely deserved it.

"Don't look at me like that," Vegeta groaned, unable to sit or keep still. How the hell was he supposed to begin? Let alone tell him at all? It wasn't as though he could just not tell him, because it was inevitable that Yamcha would let the whole school know once he found out about the wedding. So it was better that Vegeta told Goku himself. At least then he would have a chance to redeem himself.

"Just say it, Vegeta."

"Don't fucking act like you know why I brought you in here! Just shut up and let me think for a minute."

Goku was unaffected by this outburst, a sure sign that they'd been friends for a long time.

"This isn't about us getting married," he said to get it out of the way. "It's irrelevant right now."

"Right now?"

"I said shut up, Kakarot. Do you want me to tell you or not?"

"Sorry," he said with an unavoidable smile. "Continue."

"Did Bulma ever tell you how we got together?"

"Something about you trying to trip her and she called you on it." He thought for a moment, then added, "She also said that Yamcha was walking towards you two and she grabbed you to ward him off."

"Why would I try to trip her?"

Goku shrugged.

"Did I ever show any interest in her either positive or negative before that moment?"

"What are you getting at Vegeta?"

"I bought the wedding rings," he said, as if this would answer everything.

"How does that—Where did you get the money?"

Vegeta looked at him, making a face that Goku had never seen him make before. He looked remorseful and hesitant, like he'd gone something terrible and actually regretted it.

"Vegeta, what did you do? And what does it have to do with Bulma?" He could now feel the tension that was so obviously present in Vegeta.

"I…Yamcha paid me to date Bulma."

* * *

Heeheehee! I am SO evil :P What's Goku's reaction gonna be? Will he tell Bulma? Meep! Find out next time.

REVIEW and I will update :)


	9. Roaming

Last time:

"Vegeta, what did you do? And what does it have to do with Bulma?" He could now feel the tension that was so obviously present in Vegeta.

"I…Yamcha paid me to date Bulma."

* * *

Chapter 9: Roaming

Goku wiped the tears from his eyes in a fruitless effort to control his emotions.

"Why the hell are you laughing!" Vegeta balked. "I'm serious!"

"Right Vegeta," Goku sighed, still laughing a little behind his voice. "We both know you would never stoop that low. I mean, you know that if you need money you can always come to me or the twins. That was a good joke though."

"Do I have to prove it to you, Kakarot? That moron paid me to date her and dump her when she started to like me."

"Fine, then tell me this, Vegeta. If you were paid to date and dump her, then why did you two get married?"

Vegeta was silent.

"Because you love her, that's why. Which means you could never do something like that to her."

"I didn't know her when I agreed to it, Kakarot. Are you trying to be dense on purpose? Think about it! Don't I seem like the type of person that would do that?"

"Well—"

"Yes or no!"

"Yeah, but not to Bulma. Not someone I love. You would never—"

"Why would I joke about it?"

"I don't know!" He suddenly felt a very deep and very real hole forming in his gut. Vegeta was so determined for him to believe him. But how could he have done something so horrible? He knew how badly this would affect their friendship! He wouldn't be that stupid. He _couldn't_ be that stupid. "But it's an awful thing to joke about, Vegeta." He was to his feet and halfway out the door when Vegeta grabbed his elbow and pulled him back in.

"You will believe me," he said solemnly. "If you're not already starting to, then you will."

"What are you trying to say?" he sighed. Honestly, he didn't know what to believe. He wanted to believe that one of his best friends wasn't capable of something so cruel. But, at the same time, he knew how Vegeta could be.

"I'm trying to apologize. I never—"

"Save it," he interrupted, wrenching his arm free. "If you're telling the truth, which for your sake you better not be, then sorry will _never_ be enough."

* * *

All eyes were on Goku as he re-entered the living room, followed laggardly by a dower-looking Vegeta. Chi-Chi's mouth hung open and she stared at her boyfriend with an anger she had displayed only a few times in her life. Not being at Bulma and Vegeta's wedding she had been able to handle, it was excusable, but for Goku not to tell her that he and Vegeta were friends! She simply didn't know what to do with herself.

"Chi-Chi—" Goku tried, but she wouldn't have it. She stood and looked him dead in the eye, her anger emanating off of her so that everyone could feel it.

No one dared say a word.

"How long?" she said through her teeth. Her lips quivered slightly as she spoke.

"I—"

"Just answer me!" And the room jumped at the sudden volume shift in her voice.

"Since grade school," Vegeta answered, stepping up to them.

"I didn't ask _you_!" Chi-Chi hissed. "You know what, Goku? Just leave," she said, pointing at the door. "No, better yet, I'll leave. You obviously can't trust me, so I'll go." She turned to Bulma. "Congratulations, B. I'm so sorry about this." And two seconds later she was gone.

"I…I don't believe what just happened," 17 said, breaking the intense silence. Everyone looked at Goku, who was near tears.

"Fuck you, Vegeta," he said under his breath, then he too left, not saying another word.

"What was that about?" Bulma asked, grabbing her new husband's arm. "Why's he mad at you?"

Vegeta opened his mouth, then shut it again, and shrugged.

"Can we leave?" he asked.

"Uh." She looked at around the room and 18 nodded at her.

"Go ahead. The night sort of went downhill anyway."

"I'll see you guys at school Monday. Good night."

"Night guys. And congrates."

Once outside, Bulma crushed herself against Vegeta, sighing deeply.

"Crazy night, huh?"

"Yeah," he sighed, looking at the floor. "Insane…"

"Let's go home."

* * *

"Surprise!" Mr. and Mrs. Briefs cried, scaring Bulma into near-hysterics as she and Vegeta walked into the house.

"What the hell!" Bulma gasped, holding her chest. "What's going on?"

"Here," she said, handing Vegeta an envelope. "There's a brochure in there for a hotel in Rome. Your father's pilot will be ready to fly you there at noon tomorrow."

"Wait, what?"

"Your honeymoon, dear!" she laughed. "You can't get married and not have a honeymoon."

"What about school, mom? We can't just—"

"Oh sure you can. It's only a week, sweety."

"But—" she tried again.

"No buts, honey. I won't let my daughter miss her honeymoon because of something as silly as school."

Bulma sighed, defeated. She could care less about missing school, because she didn't need to go. She was a genius after all. She'd been protesting for Vegeta's sake, knowing that he really couldn't miss school, and especially not work.

"Sorry," she whispered to him, holding his hand.

He only shrugged.

"But I thought—"

"I've decided to take the job the twins offered me."

"I thought it was just an interview."

"Oh, I'm getting the job," he half-laughed. "Don't you worry about that."

"Alright," Bulma said to her parents. "We'll go." And then she embraced them, kissing them sweetly on the cheek. "Thanks," she whispered. "We really need time away from everyone here."

A few minutes later and the newly weds were alone in the living room. Vegeta hesitated a moment, then slipped his hand into her coat pocket and pulled out her car keys.

"Where are you going?"

"To grab some stuff from my apartment. I'll need clothes for the trip."

"Don't worry about it," she said, sliding into his arms suggestively. "We can buy you new clothes in Italy."

"Ok, woman, you're going to have to learn some things if we're going to stay married."

And to this she only laughed.

"I don't take handouts from anyone. Not even my wife. I need to grab the rest of my stuff anyway."

"Should I come help you?"

He stepped back and said, "No," so sternly that she didn't bother asking again. Seeing his apartment was just one of those things that wasn't going to happen, no matter how much she pressed. "I'll leave my landlord a note telling him that I'm moving out. I doubt I need to give him any notice. No one will want to move in _there_ right away."

"Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"I'm sure," he said, opening the door. "I don't have anything."

* * *

Chi-Chi sat cross-legged on her bed, a box full of photos on her bed. She just didn't understand why Goku wouldn't tell her such an important thing. They'd been dating for six years! If he didn't trust her now then he never would. But what bothered her worse than that, was the fact that she hadn't picked up on it in all that time. They'd kept it so secret that they were never found out until tonight.

She lifted a picture from the box, her heart sinking as she saw herself and Goku embracing and laughing. It had been taken only a few months ago, at Grandpa Gohan's birthday party, when she still didn't know about him and Vegeta. What did he think she was going to do if he told her? That he couldn't be friends with Vegeta?

"Moron," she sighed, and threw the photo back in the box.

Lying back on her pillows, she allowed her mind to wander, to search for incidents in the past that would now be obvious to their friendship. For ten minutes she thought, but nothing came to her. Not one moment.

She sighed loudly, then rolled over and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come. Monday she would talk to Goku and hear what he had to say. But right now she needed her anger, which he rightfully deserved.

* * *

On the other side of town, Goku laid in his bed as well, his thoughts swimming with images. How could he have been so stupid to let that happen? In the excitement and confusion of Vegeta and Bulma's wedding, he'd let his guard down. But how long had he really thought they could be friends in secret? Someone someday was bound to find out. And he hated himself for letting her find out this way, instead of telling her himself. Not that he'd had plans to any time soon, but eventually he would have to. Vegeta was his best friend, and he would have to come to their wedding. There was no question of that. Which brought him to another point: what Vegeta had said to him tonight.

_He couldn't have_, he reasoned to himself. There just wasn't any way possible that he'd hurt him like that. And Bulma, what would happen to her if it were true? And to them? Their whole world would fall apart instantly, unable to be fixed. Goku would lose his best friend and Bulma her husband.

Goku sat up so fast that it made his already pounding headache intensify.

It had been Vegeta's idea for them to get married, hadn't it? Bulma had said that they were rushed, that he wanted to get it now right then, but she'd never said why. Goku hadn't understood it then, wondering why Vegeta would be so hasty. Usually when feelings were involved he took eons to express them, to act on them. It was completely out of character for him to one: admit such strong feelings or at least let them be known in gestures, two: have the feelings in the first place, and three: act on them immediately. Suddenly the whole puzzle came together and Goku found himself crying for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

"It's true," he cried, both in sadness and in anger.

Tomorrow he would go to Bulma's first thing and tell her. But, right now, he was in desperate need of sleep.

* * *

"What are you doing with that?" Vegeta asked, plucking her cell phone from her hand. "People go on vacation to get away. Bringing a phone defeats the purpose."

"But I have to call everyone and tell them where we went. I think they might notice we're gone. Besides, I have to see how Chi-Chi is."

"Call her now then. But leave the damn phone. I won't have my honeymoon interrupted by annoying phone calls. Tell your parents to call them for you and tell them everything."

"Fine," she sighed, and quickly found Chi-Chi's number in her directory. After ten minutes she was off the phone, leaving it on a charger in her room. "I knew this would happen," she said, giving him a little sneer, though she wasn't really mad and he could see that. "Why did you have to keep your friendship a secret? What did you think would happen if people found out you actually had a friend?"

"You think I care was others think of me?" he snapped.

"Clearly. What other reason could there be?"

"Forget it. I don't want to talk about this crap. I just want to relax from this point on."

"So you're actually going to enjoy yourself?"

"You are going to be there, right?" he asked with a smirk, then scooped her up, kissing her hard on the mouth. "By the way, what's with the boots and hat?"

Bulma laughed as he set her back down.

"You don't like them?" she asked, tapping her heel to make a clicking sound. Then she tipped her hat to him, saying, "Howdy." The rest of her outfit consisted of a flowing white peasant skirt with a belt that had a big silver belt buckle, a plain dark brown tank top and a jean jacket, which she would wear her winter coat over until they got on the jet. She looked like a regular cowgirl. She didn't usually dress like that, but she figured that since it was there honeymoon then she should look nice for her new husband.

"No," he said. "I want to rip them off you."

* * *

Goku crunched through the snow, taking the shorter way to Bulma's front door, instead of using the sidewalk. He stepped up on the porch, but hesitated at the door. What was he going to say to her? How was he supposed to tell her that the man she loved had been using her for money? How could he be the one to break her heart like that?

He sighed and knocked.

"Goku dear," Mrs. Briefs said upon seeing him. "What a nice surprise."

"Is Bulma home?"

"Oh no dear. We sent her and Vegeta on a honeymoon. They left twenty minutes ago."

"Where did they go?" he all but gasped.

"Rome. They'll be home next week."

"Next week!"

"Well of course. They need time alone, Goku."

"I _need_ to talk to her, Mrs. Briefs. It's important."

"Well you're just going to have to wait, dear. She left her phone here. I'm sure it's not so important that it can't wait a week."

Goku groaned to himself, then nodded and said good-bye. She had no idea how important it was. That it really couldn't wait a week. But what was he supposed to do? Fly to Rome and search for her?

As he climbed back into his car, he found himself actually trying to think of ways to find her, before he started the engine and gave up. It was impossible, and he needed to get to Chi-Chi's and make up. He knew he should keep his distance after what had happened and let her come to him, but the situation with Vegeta and Bulma was far too big to wait. And he desperately needed to make up for his secrecy before. What better way than to tell her right away?

And the only thing he could think was:

_How can I _not_ be friends with Vegeta anymore_?

* * *

Well that went well. I really liked that chapter. It flowed nice and I got a lot done. But, holy shit, what's going to happen when the shit hits the fan!

REVIEW to find out :P


	10. Reality

Last time:

And the only thing he could think was:

_How can I _not_ be friends with Vegeta anymore_?

* * *

Chapter 10: Reality

Chi-Chi adjusted the belt on her pants, as she looked herself over in the mirror. Frowning, she turned away to find her boots. She was going shopping with 18 to buy late wedding presents for Bulma and Vegeta. And every two seconds she looked at her bedside table, at the picture she had of Goku there. It took her an hour to get dressed because of it, and she ended up hiding the picture under her pillow.

She pulled on her jacket, then went over to the calendar by the door, crossing off the sixth day since she was supposed to get her last period. She tried not to worry, because she'd skipped periods before, being slightly irregular. But with everything that had been happening, she couldn't help but think that she was cursed.

"Chi-Chi?" came her father's voice through the door.

"Yeah dad? It's open."

He opened the door and came into the room, smiling softly at his daughter. They were so close, closer than most parents and children. Last night she'd come home in tears and cried herself to sleep in his lap, spilling her heart about everything that had happened.

"Goku's here, sweety."

"Tell him—"

"He said it's important dear. He said it can't wait."

She sighed heavily, then nodded. "Fine, tell him to come in."

A few minutes later Goku came slowly into her room, and the Ox King shut the door behind them.

"Before you say a word," she said, "I just want you to know what I'm still unbelievably pissed at you right now, Goku. And if what you have to say is about our fight, then don't bother. I'm in no mood to listen. 18 is going to be here in a half an hour and I'm leaving."

"It's not about us," he said solemnly, though that's all he wanted to talk about at that moment. He couldn't stand the thought of her being mad at him. "It's about Bulma…and Vegeta."

Chi-Chi's ears perked, and she took a seat on the bed, having found her boots. She slipped one on, then the other, and said, "What about them?"

"Last night, when you found out about me and Vegeta, did you even wonder what we were talking about? What was so urgent that we risked everyone knowing?"

"It crossed my mind," she snorted venomously.

"Chi-Chi, I'm just going to come out and say this, because it's been eating away at me. I have to tell you, and I only found out last night. But I didn't believe it, not until later, not until I had time to think." He breathed deeply, preparing himself for one of the hardest things he'd ever had to say. "Vegeta pulled me away from everyone because he needed to tell me…He…"

"Tell you what?" she groaned, rolling her eyes. She was growing impatient.

"Chi-Chi…Vegeta…He…Yamcha paid him to date and dump Bulma."

When she didn't say anything, he continued, his words almost blending together he was talking so fast.

"I didn't believe it. I thought he was making a cruel joke, and I laughed. But he was so serious and so determined to make me believe him. And then you got mad at me and I went home and I couldn't sleep. I just kept replaying the whole night in my head. And then I realized that Vegeta had been the one to ask Bulma to marry him and…and it all fell into place. He was telling the truth. I tried to tell Bulma, but she wasn't home. She's—"

"In Rome," she finished for him, her voice monotone, her heart wrenching. When had life become this complicated? "Oh Kami…This can't…Oh Kami. Goku," she said, looking up at him. "What are we going to do?"

"That's just it," he sighed. "There's nothing we _can_ do. They're in Rome with no way to contact them. And when Yamcha finds out they got married—"

"Oh Kami, Goku!" Chi-Chi cried, practically jumping to her feet. "He's going to tell her. Yamcha is. He's going to tell her and…and he—Oh, I don't know! How could he? How could Vegeta? How—"

"I've been asking myself the same thing…I mean, Vegeta's done some horrible things, but never anything like this. And Yamcha, well, he was always such a good guy."

"This is going to ruin everything," she whispered, holding her stomach. "Goku, I have to tell you something."

"Chi-Chi, what?" He came to her side and slowly they sat down on the bed.

"I…Goku, I skipped my period…I think I'm…pregnant."

"You mean you haven't…checked?"

"No," she said, lowering her eyes. "I bought a test, but I haven't been able to…I need you with me. I can't do it alone."

"Do you—"

"Yes," she breathed, and allowed him to lift her to her feet. They crept out of her room and down the hall, knowing full well that her father would be in the living room and unable to hear them. They slipped quickly into the bathroom, but when they got there only stood, staring at each other. "What are we…going to do? If it's positive, I mean."

"I want to marry you, Chi-Chi," he said suddenly, taking her hands. "I want to spend every moment with you, so if you are, well, then it's just the future in the present, because you _are_ going to be the mother of my children. I wouldn't have it any other way."

She threw her arms around his neck, her tears soaking his shirt before either knew she was crying.

"I was going to wait until graduation," he said when she stepped back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box, a ring box. "I carry it with me everywhere, though. I wanted to plan it all out, make it perfect. But—"

"Life isn't perfect," she laughed, and wiped at her tears, both terrified and happy at the same time.

"Chi-Chi Mau," he said, dropping to one knee, "will you be my wife?"

There wasn't a moment's hesitation, as Chi-Chi practically tackled him to the floor, kissing his face all over.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes. Yes…I love you. Yes."

"Good. Because there's really nothing else I could do with an engagement ring."

She sat back and, while she was on his lap, he took the ring—a stunning square-cut emerald encircled with tiny diamonds and set on a silver band—and slipped it on her finger.

But only a few seconds later the mood was sour again, as Chi-Chi climbed to her feet and retrieved the unused pregnancy test. Goku left the room while she took the test, promising him that they would find out together when she was done.

"Ok," she said, opening the door to let him back in. "I'm done."

Hours passed, or so it seemed, and neither could bring themselves to look at the small piece of plastic that could change the rest of their lives, that sort of had already in a way.

"On three," she said, taking his hand. "One…Two…Three."

She flipped it over, their eyes glued to the small screen that was showing them their future. Chi-Chi gasped and nearly lost balance, and Goku simply stared at it, perplexed.

"It's—"

"Negative," she finished, and set it on the counter. Shouldn't she have been happy? She wasn't pregnant, she didn't need a baby, she didn't want a baby. Or did she? "This is a good thing," she said firmly to herself. "We're not ready."

"Yeah," he answered, a little too quickly. "Definitely not."

But, inside, they were both secretly wishing it had been positive.

* * *

Bulma clung to Vegeta as if he were her life force—which in a way she felt he was—as they stared up at the Coliseum, saying nothing. It was nearly midnight, and in less than twelve hours they were to go back to Japan, to go back to the real world, where they couldn't sleep in all the time or just lounge around in bed, ordering room service and making fun of Italian television shows. But Bulma reasoned, however, that once they returned life would be a lot easier. Everyone who mattered—and she was purposely excluding Yamcha because of how their last confrontation went—knew about their marriage, Vegeta would be living with her permanently, and, now that Goku and Vegeta's friendship was out in the open, they could all hang out together.

"I hope Chi is alright," she sighed, curling into him closer, both because of the wind and cold, and because she never wanted to be apart from him. She still couldn't believe that she loved him, and so strongly, after only a few months, but it just felt right—it was perfect. She didn't want anyone, didn't even want to _think_ of anyone else in his place. He was her husband, her soul mate as she now knew, and nothing could separate them. "She sounded so upset on the phone when I called her last week. I hope her and Goku made up."

Vegeta stiffened at the mention of his name, something that did not go unnoticed by Bulma. All week he'd been acting distracted, though he didn't let it affect their honeymoon. Every now and then she would catch him staring off, clearly deep in thought, and whenever she asked him what was wrong he'd change the subject. For the first few days she thought that maybe he was regretting their marriage, but when she asked him he answered so harshly, and so obviously honestly, that all doubts were completely washed away. He loved her, there was no question of that. So then what was wrong? What could he be thinking about all the time that seemed to cause him such distress, though he did his best to hide it. A few times he came close to telling her something, when he decided against it and refused to go on.

"I'm sure she forgave the moron," was as close to comfort as he was going to give her. He just couldn't focus today, with the return trip so close. Tomorrow his life, their marriage, would be over. He would lose the only thing that mattered to him in life, and it would be all his fault. But how could he regret what he'd done when it had brought Bulma to him? How could he regret her and all that had happened? The only thing he regretted was not telling her, but he figured it was too late for that. Besides, what could he say that would make everything better? Or at least a little easier? _Nothing_, he thought bitterly, and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "We should get back to the hotel."

"Yeah, you're probably right," she said as they turned to go. "I'm just going to miss this so much."

He sighed deeply, and pulled her even closer.

"Me too," he whispered, his voice as steady as he could force it to be. "Me too." But what he really wished he'd said was, "I love you."

* * *

The second Bulma walked through the front door, she was crushed into someone's warm embrace. It wasn't until she heard the soft crying, that she knew who it was.

"Chi, what's wrong?" Bulma asked, holding her at arms' length.

Chi-Chi opened her mouth to speak, to tell her everything that had been going on since she left, but all that came out was: "I missed you, B," and then she was silent.

"Chi-Chi!" she balked, grabbing her hand. "Are you…_engaged_!"

"Yeah," she answered with a smile. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"I'll say. I'm just glad Goku finally found the guts to ask you."

They looked at each other, then burst out laughing, leaving Goku to stare at them in confusion. He would never understand women.

A few minutes later, Vegeta walked into the house, a duffel bag over his shoulder, because he refused to let Baiko, their pilot, carrying it for him. The entire room went silent, all eyes on Vegeta, except for Bulma, who was staring at everyone else, wondering why they were looking at him so strangely.

"Vegeta," Goku said firmly, and grabbed him by the elbow so violently Bulma thought he'd strike him. But he simply pulled him to the side. "We need to talk."

To everyone's surprise, Vegeta followed Goku into the kitchen. This left Chi-Chi alone with Bulma and her mother, because the twins and Krillin were missing. No one knew where they were, because just last night they'd all been at the apartment and were supposed to be at Bulma's by now. Everyone—aside from Bulma and her parents—knew about what Vegeta had done, and they all wanted a piece of him. But they'd decided, as maturely as they could in their anger, that they would break it to her gently. There was no way they were going to allow Yamcha to tell her, to crush her the way they knew he wanted to. He wanted revenge, and he now had it. She didn't need to go through any more pain than was necessary.

Chi-Chi itched to tell Bulma everything, but since they'd agreed to tell her together, she couldn't, and therefore didn't want to be near her and be tempted to just blurt it out.

In The Kitchen:

"How could you?" Goku hissed, shoving Vegeta into the refrigerator. "_How_!"

"I'm not talking to you when you're like this," Vegeta sneered. "We both know it doesn't suit you."

"Fuck what suits me, Vegeta. Fuck everything, because everything's changed and it's _all_ your fault!"

"You think I don't know that? You think I haven't been kicking myself everyday because I can't find the balls to tell her what I've done? I fucked up, Kakarot, and I know it. What more do you want!"

"I want you to tell her, that's what I want. And that's what she deserves. She doesn't deserve to hear it from us, because if you don't tell her then we will. And she definitely doesn't deserve to hear it from Yamcha."

"I won't hurt her," Vegeta said through his teeth, his mind instinctively remembering that he'd said this exact statement to Yamcha before. It made him want to vomit, knowing what he'd done, who he'd hurt, and that, no matter what, he could never make it better. "Besides, what am I supposed to say?"

"You can try the truth."

"Fuck you, Kakarot."

"No, fuck you Vegeta. Do you have any idea how serious this is? It isn't something a simple apology is going to fix. Bulma is not going to want to hear that you didn't plan on falling in love with her, because _she fell in love with you_. She trusted you from the beginning, when I warned her, when she shouldn't have, and you're going to crush her."

"You warned her about me?" Vegeta sneered. "Some friend you are."

"What does that matter anymore? We're not friends. And yes, Vegeta, I did warn her about you, because I know how you are. I didn't want to see her get hurt because you're an asshole. Every girl that's been in your life has walked away, hating you. I couldn't let that happen to her, I couldn't let her get hurt. But then you had to go and do something so horrible that I _can't_ be your friend anymore. I thought I could trust you, after all these years, to not be who everyone else believed you were. I thought I knew you, I thought they were wrong…Apparently I'm the one that was wrong."

"It doesn't have to be so black and white."

"But it is!"

"I know I fucked up. I know I don't deserve her, or you, or anyone else. But can't I tell my side?"

"What's there to tell?" Goku scoffed. "You're a disgrace to everything I care about."

"Do you have any idea what it's like to live the life I lead? How many times I've planned and tried to kill myself? How many times I've gone for days without food or sleep? And don't say that I could have borrowed money from you, or the twins, because you _know_ I couldn't have. I don't take hand outs, I'm not that person. I live for myself and by self."

"And you always will," Goku sighed. "For a little while I actually believed Bulma had changed something in you, made you happy. But I guess it was just the money."

"Kakarot—"

"No, Vegeta, I'm done with you."

"Goku!"

For a moment Vegeta thought he might stay and hear him out.

"Don't Vegeta. Just don't. You didn't change because you _won't_ change." He turned and was halfway out the door, when he stopped and said, "Don't try to talk to me again, Vegeta, and don't _ever_ call me Goku again."

Back In The Living Room:

"Oh kuso!" Bulma swore. "We'll be right there."

"What's going on?" Goku asked as he reentered the room. "Who was that?"

"18," she said, biting her lip. "Her and Krillin and 17 were in an accident."

"What—Are they—"

"They're fine," she reassured him. "They'll be fine.."

"Were they hurt?"

"I…We need to meet them at the hospital."

"Ohk Kami," he breathed. "Let's go."

"Wait. Where's Vegeta?"

"I need to go see my old landlord," he said, having entered the room in the uproar right after Goku. "I'll be back later."

* * *

It wasn't until the next day, at school, that the group realized that they hadn't told Bulma what Vegeta had done. All three spent the night in the hospital and were going to be out of school for the next few days. It was nothing serious, but enough to keep them over night for observation.

When Chi-Chi and Goku got to school, they looked all over for her, frantically trying to find her and tell her before Yamcha found her. Right before lunch, Chi-Chi called her house, hearing from her mother that she and Vegeta had slept in and were on their way. At this information, they booked down the hall and into the cafeteria, but Bulma was nowhere in sight. And across the room Vegeta and Yamcha.

Flashback:

Vegeta looked up, catching Yamcha's heated glare across the room instantly, as if they were magnetized to him. He knew in that moment that everything he had was gone. Bulma, her love, their happiness. Everything he never knew he wanted but couldn't live without. He'd blown it. He'd accepted money to hurt someone, and that someone he'd fallen in love with.

Yamcha advanced on him, his steps wide and hard. Vegeta managed to grab his arm before he could get past him to Bulma, who was still at her locker.

"Let go of me Ouji. You brought this on yourself."

"You should know something first," Vegeta said, wanting to break his arm to shards.

"And what's that? I already know you _love her_. What's more pathetic than that, Ouji? I don't care what you have to say. I want my revenge, and I will have it now. I've waited long enough!"

"We got married."

He was stunned silent for a moment. And then the most sinister smirk crept across his features.

"Well I didn't think it was possible, but you've screwed yourself even worse. Congrates, Ouji. You've succeeded in hurting her even more. I commend you."

"Fuck you," Vegeta seethed through his teeth.

"I wouldn't. I have your balls and I'm not letting go."

End Flashback:

Just as Chi-Chi and Goku reached them, Vegeta went to the ground, having received a hard blow to the gut from Yamcha.

"Yamcha!" she cried.

"Don't you dare judge me," he snapped at her, then shoved her aside and left.

"St-Stop him!" Vegeta managed to say, holding his stomach. "He's going to tell her!"

* * *

Well that was interesting, I think. I'm sorry it took me so long, but I've been having a hectic last few weeks with finals and such. But I'll be home for break for the next 5 weeks, so expect a lot of updates—I hope you all enjoyed it!

REVIEW and see more!


	11. No Tears

Last time:

"Yamcha!" she cried.

"Don't you dare judge me," he snapped at her, then shoved her aside and left.

"St-Stop him!" Vegeta managed to say, holding his stomach. "He's going to tell her!"

* * *

Chapter 11: No Tears

Bulma closed her locker and leaned against it, sighing with pleasure. She couldn't remember a time she'd been happier—not with Yamcha, not as a child, not ever. She was married, she was in love, and for the first time in her life the future didn't scare her.

What did scare her—though it was in a good way—was that she actually found herself picturing her and Vegeta with children. Chi-Chi had always been the one to want children, she was a mother through and through. Hell, even 18 was more apt to want kids than Bulma. All her life had been about science, furthering her mind, but children had never been part of it. Not until Vegeta showed up, and turned her whole world upside down.

_What's wrong with me_? she couldn't help thinking, though a smile was plastered across her features.

Her eyes drifted to her wedding ring, and for an instant she was worried about Yamcha and how he would react to the marriage. He was already scaring her with his behavior at their break-up; she couldn't imagine how he was going to take the fact that she dumped him to avoid a long-distance relationship and then turned around and got married.

"Bulma!"

Her heart stopped and she looked up to see the very person she had been dreading running towards her. He looked frantic, but somehow pleased, as if he carried both good and bad news.

"Bulma!"

"Yamcha, please don't—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Goku and Chi-Chi came barreling down the hall, followed laggardly by a keeled over—

"Vegeta!"

"No!" Yamcha cried, shoving her back into her locker. "You have to listen to—"

"Don't touch her!" Vegeta coughed out, and would have tried to grab him had it not been for Goku's lightening reflexes. "Don't you dare!"

"Don't _I_ dare? You're one to talk, Ouji!"

"Bulma!" Chi-Chi cut in. "Bulma wait! You have to understand!"

"We should have told you!" And this time it was Goku. "But you were gone, and we couldn't get a hold of you, and then—and then the twins and Krillin and the car and—We're so sorry."

"No!" Vegeta barked. "_I_ should have told you! These morons—"

"Shut up!" Yamcha hissed. "You had your chance and you made your decision! I refuse to stand by and let_ you _have what I can't!"

"Bulma, listen to _me_!"

"No, me!"  
"Bulma!"

"Bulma please!"

"He only want to hurt you!"

"Me! That's all _you_ do!"

"Not intentionally, Richboy!"

"Don't listen to them!"

"We should have told you! The second you got back! We—"

"SHUT UP!"

The hallway was deafeningly silent.

Bulma took a step back and assessed the group that stood—panting and nearly hysterical—before her.

Subconsciously she grabbed her left hand with her right, twirling her ring.

"What's going on?" she asked, regretting the words before they past her lips.

Everyone opened their mouths at once.

"Vegeta," she said, silencing them again. "What…What happened?" Anything involving her lover and ex-lover, not to mention her closest friends, could not be good. And there had been mention of secrets or lies, something kept from her and her alone.

Instead of answering, Vegeta looked to Goku, and Bulma knew in her heart that nothing would ever be the same. Her insides seized up and she dropped her arms to her sides, fists clenched. She felt the sting of oncoming tears, but couldn't explain it. Nothing had happened yet! But already so much had changed.

"Look at _me_!" she said through her teeth. "What happened?"

Vegeta open his mouth to speak but, no matter how hard he tried, no words came. He stepped forward and grabbed her hands and made gestures as if to speak. Then, shocking even Yamcha, he threw down her hands and backed up, sneering, scowling, being exactly the person everyone always thought he was.

He couldn't do it, couldn't tell her.

He was giving up.

The group looked at Yamcha, stunned, and so did Bulma. No one had anticipated this. No one was prepared. Not even Yamcha, who could only stare back at them.

"Yamcha, what's going on?" she asked, her voice softer, sadder. "What's this about?" She couldn't even look at Vegeta. Not until she knew.

I—I…I…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his checkbook. He extended his arm, but the instant her fingers touched the leather exterior, he snapped his arm back, clutching the book to his chest.

He was regretting what he'd put into motion, but it was too late to pull out now. Everything was fine, the revenge was going perfectly, until, that is, he actually had to go through with hurting her, hurting the girl he'd loved since the moment he met her. He could no longer remember why putting her through so much agony had meant so much. All he could see now was her beautiful, innocent face, and she was in pain. She needed the truth, but vengeance was no longer in his heart. He loved her more than he thought he had, more than he thought he could, but he realized it too late.

"Is someone going to tell me?"

"Bulma, I love you," Yamcha whispered. "I love you and I'm so sorry. I did what I thought I had to, I did something stupid and cruel and—"

In the blink of an eye Bulma had the checkbook in her hands, and when Yamcha tried to get it back, she took off down the hall. She only made it past a few doors, however, when she stopped dead, her tear-filled eyes fixed on the information before her.

"What does…it mean?"

"Bulma—"

"What does it mean!" she screamed, pitching the book at him. "Why are you paying Vegeta! What the hell is going on?"

"It's complicated and—"

"I'm a _fucking_ rocket scientist," she hissed. "Try me."

"I was so mad at you when you left me," Yamcha began, unable to look at anyone. If someone had told him revenge would hurt this bad, he wouldn't have even considered it. "I wanted to get you back. I wanted…I wanted to…hurt you so bad, the way you hurt me."

"I already knew you were immature," she bit. "What did you do?"

"I paid Vegeta to…to…I paid him to—"

"He paid me to date you!" Vegeta blurted out, looking angry and terrified and sad all at once. "All I had to do," he continued hurriedly, running his words together, not even thinking as he spoke, as he dug his own grave, "was date you until you fell for me, then dump you, humiliate you like…like you did…to him." He was suddenly short of breath, panting, and now only sadness painted his face. Fear and anger no longer registered. He'd been anticipating this for so long, and now it was here, and he had _no_ idea what to do. For the first time in his life he had nothing at his disposal. He was screwed and he had no one to blame, no way out.

He was in love with Bulma Briefs, but none of that mattered now. Nothing he could possibly think to say would matter.

And she was completely silent, blank.

And that was the worst thing that could happen right then. Everyone waited for—everyone _needed_—to know what would come of this.

"I," Bulma began, her jaw firm, determined, though her eyes were nearly ready to burst. "I knew…I knew it was too good."

But that was all. No crying. No yelling. No violent tantrums. Only those few words, and then she turned around and walked away.

No one even _thought_ to stop her.

* * *

"Oh Kami," Vegeta whispered, holding his chest because he felt as though he would be sick, and echoed by Goku and Chi-Chi, who all continued to stare down the hall after Bulma, willing her to turn around, to listen, to not have a broken heart. Yamcha was the only one not looking after her. In fact, he was backing away, attempting to get as far from them as he could before reality truly sunk in. "Oh Kami…Oh Kami."

Vegeta spun around and, before anyone could even have a thought as to what was happening, Yamcha was against the nearest set of lockers, his nose bloody and his hands up to cover his face from more blows.

"Why!" Vegeta hissed, teeth barred and spitting angry saliva everywhere. "Are you happy now! _Is this what you wanted_!"

"No!" Yamcha cried, and pushed with all his strength to get free. "No, not anymore…I'm sorry Vegeta. I am. But how am I supposed to change this? It's over!"

"You couldn't accept defeat like a man, could you?" he spat, then let go, and Yamcha dropped to the floor like so much dirty laundry. "No, that would have been too difficult. But crushing someone—that's your cup of tea, isn't it Richboy? It isn't enough that you have money and have never had to worry about a thing in your life! It isn't enough that you _had_ her without trying, without a catch! You had to have it all and now look! Look! Look…" He took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. "If you don't get out of my sight in the next five seconds I don't think I'll be able to stop myself from killing you."

His words and tone and stance were so determined, so sincere, that Yamcha didn't even attempt to retort, to apologize again. He scrambled to his feet and took off down the hall, nearly colliding with the principal that was advancing on the rest of the students assembled in the hall without passes.

"What is going on here?" the principal demanded, coming up to them. "Mr. Son, Miss Mau, Mr. Ouji. Would you mind explaining yourselves?"

"Forgive us," Chi-Chi piped in immediately. "Yamcha confronted Vegeta just now because he found out that he and Bulma got married. He was furious and tried to hit Vegeta. He was only defending himself."

The principal eyed them with suspicion, then nodded.

"Very well," she sighed. "I believe you. But I will need you, Mr. Ouji, to come to my office at the end of the day. Bring Miss Briefs with you too. We have some things to discuss."

The second she was around the corner Vegeta jumped back, holding his cheek. Chi-Chi stood before him, fuming, her arm still out after having slapped him so hard across the face that her hand stung.

"You are damn lucky that I saved your ass, Vegeta. Nevermind the fact that you betrayed everyone and used Bulma for money. How could you _let her fall for you_? Don't you get it?" she laughed bitterly, her eyes threatening tears. This was too much. "That's all that matters to her, that's all she's thinking about. She loved you without restraint and you betrayed her. She still loves you and that's the worst thing of all, Vegeta, because now she hates you too. And no one, not even you or Yamcha, deserves that kind of pain."

"I didn't—"

"What does it matter that you didn't mean to, or didn't plan to, or didn't want to—the point is _you did_ and there's no way to change that. So take your own advice: be a man and accept what's happened."

* * *

The next day the twins and Krillin returned to school. But they would have much rather been at Capsule Corp., comforting Bulma. Unfortunately though, they'd already missed so many days and it would begin affecting their grades if they didn't go to class.

What they didn't know, what no one aside from her parents knew, was that Bulma hadn't shed a tear, hadn't said a word, hadn't made a gesture or signal that she was even affected by the information she'd received. Chi-Chi had called her mother the evening before—the day it had happened—and told her everything. In turn she had expected to pick up on the signs of sadness from her daughter, but all that happened was she decided to stay home from school for the day and help her father in the lab.

No one spoke to Vegeta. But even if they wanted to, they wouldn't have been able to. He hadn't come to school, and as far as they knew he wasn't ever coming back. Goku went as far as to go and talk to the principal, but she couldn't tell him a thing he didn't already know. He hadn't gone to see her yesterday afternoon like he was supposed to, and he never called in sick.

It was nearly a week later that both parties finally came back; Bulma on a Tuesday and Vegeta the day after. It was a strange time, and no one knew what to do.

"Hey B," 18 said carefully, placing her hand on her shoulder. "How are you?"

"I'm great," she answered; not too quickly, not too hesitantly—exactly the way she normally did. They didn't know whether to rejoice or call a shrink. "I did some thinking, but I'm sick of not being at school."

"You're not—" Goku began, but was cut off when Bulma started to laugh.

"Upset?" she sighed, and laughed a little more. "No. I'm good. Really."

They looked at her as though she'd sprouted an arm from her forehead.

"I'm serious, you guys. I'm fine."

"Have you even…cried?" Chi-Chi whispered, as she put her arm around her. "I talked to your mom the other night and she said—"

"What does she know? She's been with dad for twenty-some years with nothing to complain about. And no, I haven't cried, but I don't need to. I realized that it was silly of me to get so upset about something so dumb. I mean, I only knew Vegeta for what?—six month?—and then got married? What was I thinking? It was a mistake and I'm fine."

"You keep saying that," 17 said, stepping forward, "but that is so easily said. Are you over him?"

She hesitated for the smallest fraction of a second.

"I'm good," she said firmly.

"Bulma," Goku said. "Do you even realize what's happened?"

"Of course I do."

"Vegeta was paid to date you," he said as softly as he could. "Then dump you and humiliate you, and you're okay with that? B, you married him. I thought you—"

"Loved him?" she howled with laughter. "Oh Goku, you're the best. You really are. He was a rebound after Yamcha, nothing more. I've already talked to my parents and I decided that a divorce is the best thing. I mean, really, how could I have been so rash? Marriage while I'm still in highschool? It's a miracle that one of you hasn't committed me yet."

"Have you seen him since?" Krillin asked cautiously. He had to know; they all had to know.

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly, though for the first time something changed in her demeanor. Nothing big, nothing noticeable unless you had been looking for it. "I saw him during second period. We have Japanese together. I was going to go over and ask him when he wanted to see the divorce lawyer, but before I could he 'd handed in the assignment and left. It was strange."

"Strange? Bulma!" Goku cried. "What's wrong with you? Is anything registering? _You two were married_!"

"Yeah, and now we'll be divorced. Simple as that."

"Simple as that? Are you hearing what you're saying? Simple as that? Bulma, it is not _simple as that_!"

"What are you getting so worked up for? It's my life. Kami," she sighed. "Listen, I have to see my physics teacher before the bell, so we'll talk about this later."

She was around the corner and gone before they could say a word.

"What the hell was that?" Chi-Chi sighed, biting her lip. "She's in worse shape than I thought."

"I know," 17 agreed. "What are we going to do?"

"What can we do?" 18 asked. "She won't ever admit that she's upset."

"I think she just needs time," Goku suggested. "Let her come to us."

"I guess you're right. I just hate seeing her like this. It's horrible."

"I know…But it's all we can do."

The group walked to down the hall, splitting off at their respective classes, completely at a loss for what to do.

* * *

AHHH! Can you believe it! It actually happened! Ahhh! What will happen next!

REVIEW to find out:P


	12. New Vows

Last time:

"I know…But it's all we can do."

The group walked to down the hall, splitting off at their respective classes, completely at a loss for what to do.

* * *

Chapter 12: New Vows

Vegeta was only vaguely aware that he was moving, that someone was pushing him down a bright hall, and that he was lying down. There were voices, muted and angry, shouting commands at one another. And then he heard a voice he never expected; Goku's.

Suddenly everything grew brighter. And then, slowly, everything went black.

* * *

It must have been late night, or early morning, when Vegeta woke up. His throat burned, as though he'd swallowed scalding coffee; his head felt like a giant bruised fruit. But that wasn't what startled him. By the window, next to his bed, Goku sat, his head slumped over in sleep. Of course he wasn't in his apartment, but a phenomenally cleaner hospital room.

He lifted his arm, only to find another pain. His ribs seemed to crack and whine as he tried to check the watch on his wrist that was no longer there. And why would it be? The last thing he remembered was working out in the gym at SCC, so naturally he took it off to store in his locker.

"Kakarot," he said, his voice normal, if not a bit scratchy, before he knew better.

Goku started and looked up, something between a smile and a frown on his face. For a moment he said nothing, only stared at his ex-friend, eyes hiding none of the anger they had the last time they'd spoken.

"When did you wake up?" was all he said, after such an intense stare-down.

Vegeta had expected more.

"Now." He shrugged, wincing slightly at the pain he'd nearly forgotten about. "What the hell happened? I feel like shit."

"You passed out in the gym," Goku informed him, his voice as devoid of emotion as Vegeta's always was. If anything, it was flatter, though bubbled every once and a while with anger.

"I figured as much, Kakarot. Why do my ribs hurt? What's wrong with my throat?"

"The doctor said you over-exerted yourself. You pushed yourself too far. By the time you blacked out, they imagine you'd been there more than six hours."

"Sounds about right."

"You're an idiot."

Vegeta said nothing.

"You started puking up blood before you passed out."

"Hence the throat and rib pain," he said matter-of-factly.

"That," Goku sneered, "and you fell into a rack of weights. You landed on your gut."

"When are they letting me out of here?" He wanted to get as far from Goku as possible. It was the strangest feeling, because he wanted to still be his friend, but the raging vibe he was giving him off told him to flee. This was not the Goku he'd known since childhood. And it was his fault he was this way.

"After you talk to a shrink." There was no nice way to say it, though Goku didn't even try.

"A shrink!" He was visibly horrified. "What the fuck for? I passed out. I didn't throw myself at the damn weights. I didn't force myself to puke!"

"Obviously there's something mentally wrong with you," he shot back, his eyebrows twitching in irritation. "But they're mainly interested in why you worked yourself to the point you did."

"It was an acci—"

"Don't bullshit me, Vegeta. I know you better than anyone. You don't have time to be in the gym for six hours! You skipped work to be there, to do that. You were _trying_ to hurt yourself." He made a scoffing sound and crossed his arms. "How pathetic can you be? You brought this on yourself and now you're taking the coward's way out?"

Vegeta had nothing to say. Though he despised admitting it, Goku was right. But what bothered him the most was how completely transparent he was to is old friend. What had he done? Goku was a great friend and he'd thrown that away for _money_? Why it had been so important before he can't remember.

"I would think you," Vegeta finally said venomously, "most of all, would be happy."

"Happy! Why the hell—"

"Because, you moron! I'm getting what I deserve!"

"No, you're punishing yourself. True," and he actually sniggered, "you deserve it, but not like this. Not when you're the one doing it. Bulma, and Bulma alone, has that right. And you know what she's doing?" He paused, sighed, leaned back. "Nothing. She's doing nothing. You're getting off without a scratch on this one. I hope you're proud."

"Fuck you, Kakarot. Don't pretend to know what it's like to be me. You can't _imagine_ how it feels to have no parents, to live in a shithole that you can barely pay for, to have to work your ass off for _nothing_."

"Money isn't everything, you know," Goku sighed, exhausted. "Or haven't you noticed?"

"Well I learned that the hard way, didn't I?"

"Aren't you even going to ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

"Why I'm here."

Vegeta shrugged, again forgetting about his ribs. Why were they playing games with each other? So much had been lost already, and here they were making it harder, pouring salt in the wound while at the same time gouging it deeper. It was cruel, to both of them. And yet they did it. They did it because of how much they both love Bulma.

"Why are you here?"

"Bulma asked me to come," he answered immediately.

He was too weak, too injured, to stop his jaw from dropping open. Why had _she_ asked someone to visit him? He thought far too highly of her to think she'd sent Goku to berate him the way he was.

"She was concerned about your well-being."

"How did she know I was here?"

"Records have her down as your contact, because you're still married."

"Still…"

"She's divorcing you, you know."

"Are you enjoying this?"

Goku smirked. Vegeta could have flat lined had his condition dealt with his heart.

"You don't get it, do you? I'm not like you, Vegeta. I don't care about revenge or being the best or having it all. I care about Chi-Chi and Bulma, Krillin and the twins, my grandpa, and as much as I hate you, I still care about you too. It's the same with Bulma, the same with everyone. Except _you_."

"I—"

"Maybe you've changed in loving Bulma. But it's too late."

"Kakarot!" he snapped when Goku stood to leave. "This can't be over! It can't end like this!" And he meant both their friendship and his marriage.

"You ended everything the second you took that rat's money, Vegeta. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with my fiancée."

The door would have slammed if hospital doors could slam.

A moment later a doctor came in and checked Vegeta over, saying little. He was informed that his shrink would be in the next morning, and then he could leave.

Vegeta was absolutely floored. If, that is, he had been told he was about to die. But he had no such luck.

* * *

"Listen, because I'm only saying this once," Vegeta sneered, his back now sore as well due to having to spend so much time in bed. "I am _not_ crazy, not the way you think I am. You want me to say I tried to kill myself, but you have _no_ idea what the hell is wrong with me. This is just a job for you; you get paid because I talk to you. The thing is, you're looking for some profound answer, something to explain my behavior, and I have none to give you." He paused, but only to catch his breath. "Yes, my parents died when I was young. Yes, my father died leaving me poor and alone. Yes, I had no other family members to care for me, so I raised myself. And yes, I have been working two jobs and going to two different schools for the past four years. But none of that has anything to do with what happened to me."

The simple-looking woman with red hair and a white doctor's coat said nothing. What was there so say? He was telling her everything and she hadn't so much as said hello.

"Pathetically enough, it has to do with money and…a girl."

This sparked the shrink's interest, and she poised her pen.

"Her name doesn't matter," he said crossly, "but you'd change it in your book anyway, right? She didn't want a boyfriend, and she left her ex of four years. He waited revenge, and that's where I came in. He offered to pay me to date her, until she liked me enough, and then dump her, humiliate her." Vegeta's voice was so calm and collected, the doctor had a hard time believing his story. "She was my…mybestfriend's friend."

"Your what?"

"My. Best. Friend's. Friend," he hissed, annoyed at having to repeat himself. "When things got out of hand, I tried to tell him, I tried to call it off. Now it's just me again."

"You tried to hurt yourself because you love her?"

Vegeta laughed so hard and so loud, the doctor actually jumped. It was the first real emotion he'd shown, other than anger, of course.

"Of course not," he lied, and so well. She believed him. "I wasn't trying to hurt myself." Another lie, though he didn't know it. He hadn't been conscience of trying anything other than to eliminate his emotional pain with physical exertion. "I was bulking up to kick her ex boyfriend's ass. He didn't pay out as much as he promised. I got screwed over."

"You're telling me that you broke your girlfriend's heart and lost your only friend—" Because she'd figured as much. "—and you don't even care?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he informed her. "She's my wife."

* * *

By three in the afternoon, Vegeta was out. The shrink had bought his story, urging him to seek help for his anger and indifference to others. He flipped her off and tore up his bill, or his copy anyway. Not because he wasn't going to pay it, but because it had already been paid for. By Bulma.

At nearly four thirty, after walking clean across downtown, Vegeta was standing outside Capsule Corp., it's big looming doom giving him a knot. Going here before had been a sanctuary, and break from his life.

He gasped, in little breaths, as he walked; his ribs ached so bad; his throat still burned; his head pounded, he might very well be nauseous; and now his lungs seemed to be joining the Let's Hurt Vegeta Terribly Party.

The doorbell sounded like a gong, and when Mrs. Briefs answered the door, she always-present smile dropped. It was the first time he hadn't seen her all happy-go-lucky; not a good sign.

"May I help you?" If her frown hadn't been eerie, then her voice certainly was.

"I have to talk to Bulma," he said.

"And just why—"

"It's fine mom," he heard her voice from somewhere in the living room. His heart stopped. "We do need to talk. Let him in."

Her mother obeyed, but only so much as allowing him to enter. She didn't move out of his way, so he was forced to squeeze by her.

When he finally laid eyes on her, she was more beautiful than he remembered. She was wearing a simple black dress, strapless, and held a matching purse in her hands.

"Where are you going?" he blurted out. "I mean—"

"Chi-Chi, 18, and I are going out to celebrate Chi-Chi and Goku's engagement."

"When—"

"I'm picking them up in twenty minutes."

"Right."

"I need your signature, Vegeta." She reached into the desk beside her, then closed the gap between them and tried to hand him what he'd been dreading. Divorce papers. "I worked everything out. Just sign. It pretty much says we'll go back to normal, nothing changed."

"_Nothing changed_?"

She laughed and said, "No. Of course not. Neither of us acquired assets or—"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

She sighed. She didn't have time to deal with this.

"Why the hell did you pay my hospital bill? Why'd you send Goku to check on me? Why aren't you upset! And why the hell are you divorcing me! We haven't even talked yet."

"Which one do you want me to answer?" she asked, docile.

"Bulma!"

"I paid the bill," she said, annoyed, "because I knew you couldn't. I sent Goku, because I care about you, and so does he. I'm not upset because I don't love you anymore. And I'm divorcing you because you never loved me."

"That's not true!"

"Of course it is. You couldn't possibly pay—"

"Stop that! Stop making this difficult!"

"Because you expected it to be easy? Come on Vegeta, no good comes from greed."

His face paled. What he hadn't realized until just now was that coming here would be a confrontation about why he'd accept money from Yamcha. Was he ready for that?

"If not of this was real," she started, making true what he'd dreaded, "why did you marry me? I'm sure that wasn't part of the plan."

"Because I—"

"Oh Kami," she gasped, having just realized something terrible. She dropped her purse and stared. "Did you…Did you think you could get _more_ money? Yamcha's money wasn't enough. You wanted mine too?"

Now it was Vegeta's turn to be horrified.

"NO!"

"Well nothing else makes sense, Vegeta. I mean, what kind of person takes money to date someone else? Who are you?"

"One look at my apartment and you'd know why," he murmured.

She ignored him.

"Don't divorce me," he finally said. "Not yet."

"Vegeta, just stop—"

"Hear me out. Stay with me, for a year. If we can't work things out by then, I'll sign anything you want."

"And just why would I do that?" she laughed. This was getting more ridiculous by the second. "We don't belong together, Vegeta, simple as that. Besides, our relationship was a big scam."

"You love me."

"I _thought_ I loved you. There's a difference. Plus, we're too young to be married. We made a mistake, and now I'm going to fix it. Don't ruin anything else, Vegeta. Just let it go."

"But what if it wasn't a mistake?" What the hell was he saying? Of course it was!

"How could it _not_ be? It wasn't even real!"

"Why wasn't it real?"

Bulma sighed and reached down to retrieve her fallen bag. "What are you trying to do, Vegeta? Get me to fall for you? Because after what's happened, that's impossible."

"You're not mad."

"Why? Because I'm not yelling. Of course I'm mad, you moron. I'm pissed that you lied to me and made money off of me. But I'm not going to yell and scream and throw things at you. You don't deserve it."

"What don't I deserve? To see you upset over this?"

"Exact—" She glared heatedly at him. "No. I'm not upset. I already said that. It was a mistake and I know that now. Uh," she groaned. "Whatever. Can we just finish this? I have to leave. My lawyer said all you have to do is sign the papers." Again she held them out. "So sign them."

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest. "In one year," he answered stubbornly.

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" she sighed. Great. One more thing to deal with.

"I meant it when I asked you to marry me, Bulma. That was never part of Richboy's deal, as you so nicely pointed out. He never wanted this. It's what _I_ wanted."

"The only reason you wanted to marry me is so that when I found out what you did, it would be harder for me to get rid of you."

"Exactly," he said, unfolding his arms to make a gesture. "And why would I want to do that?"

"Do you actually think I care that you love me?"

Vegeta was struck silent with painful realization. That had been his only card to play. And it was a Joker.

"You were only looking out for yourself when you agreed to date me. Now _I_'m looking out for _myself_. It works both ways. You can't have everything."

"It's only a year." Bulma pursed her lips tightly; was he begging?

"Fine," she hissed. "But," she added quickly, pointing a rigid finger at him, "I have terms…We graduate in a few months, and after that I'm going to England for college. What I want, if I don't change my mind, is for you to stay away from me for the entire year that I'm supposed to be thinking things over. No phone calls to explain yourself, or check up on me, or letters to do the same. Nothing. No contact whatsoever. Now I know it's impossible for me not to _see_ you while we're still in school, but if you say _one_ word to me then the deal's off. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly." He did all he could not to smile.

"One year. No contact."

"Yes."

"Anything else before I go?" She glanced at her watch. She was late.

"Yeah. You're wrong."

"About what?"

"You do care. You're just too angry to admit it."

Bulma made it a block down the road before she had to pull over. And she cried.

* * *

I know that took FOREVER. I get so busy and so uncreative. But I'm on a roll here. Besides, I only have a few more chapters left. I know! Crazy!

**REVIEW!**


	13. A Change in the Weather

Last time:

"You do care. You're just too angry to admit it."

Bulma made it a block down the road before she had to pull over. And she cried.

* * *

Chapter 13: A Change in the Weather

"You did _what_?" Chi-Chi and 18 cried in unison, spatters of tea splashing onto the table. 18 composed herself quite easily, sitting back and taking in Bulma's calm demeanor; she could sense a change in the air. Chi-Chi, however, still sat, jaw dropped, and balking at her best friend.

"How could you—" But their raven-haired friend was interrupted abruptly as 18 thought of something.

"You cried, didn't you?"

Silence.

"What makes you say that? Do I sound upset?" Bulma asked calmly, though inside she was struggling not to reach across the small table and disembowel her blonde friend.

"You had to cry sometime," she replied with a shrug. "I figure knowing that he really does love you was enough."

Bulma's face made the slightest movement; a twitch, a minor tremble.

"I told him, and I'm telling you," Bulma said angrily. "I don't care that he loves me. He fucked himself over when he danced with the devil."

18 only smirked.

"What?"

"You're getting awfully worked up for a simple statement, B. It makes one think—"

"Can we not talk about this anymore? We're here for Chi, not my Vegeta problems."

"Fine," Chi-Chi said, and smiled. "Why did you agree to stay married to Vegeta?"

"Chi—"

"What? If we're here for me, then that's what I want to do."

Bulma groaned, sucking down the dregs of her tea.

"I'll give you the short answer," she complied. "Vegeta said he would sign the divorce papers if, after a year, I still don't want to stay married. That was the easiest way out of this mockery of a relationship. Otherwise, I would probably stay married to him until Kami knows when."

"I thought you loved him."

"I did."

"Liar," 18 spat. "You're in denial. You were stomach-churningly in love with him up until the second he told you what he'd done."

"I can't be in love with someone who betrayed me," she reasoned. It sounded reasonable to her, anyway. But her friends had a different idea all together.

"Can't you?" Chi-Chi asked, taking 18's lead. "How can the feelings just go away like that? You have to still feel _something_ for him."

"What does it matter now?" Bulma hissed under her breath. "We're over. Done. And no amount of love can change that."

18 chuckled.

Bulma threw a baby carrot from her salad at her.

"So you do—"

"Want the whole thing?"

"Is it really that hard to admit? It doesn't make you any less of a person because you still love him, B," Chi-Chi said, being the more rational of Bulma's two friends. "If Goku, Kami forbid, did something like cheat on me, I don't think I could stop loving him at the drop of a hat."

Again there was silence. Bulma pondered both her friends' words, while idling pushing around a cherry tomato with her fork. She was only fooling herself if she actually believed she didn't love him still, because clearly her friends had seen right through her. But that didn't mean Vegeta had to know.

"How could someone be so cruel?" she finally said, dropping her fork altogether. And for the second time that day she felt the onset of tears, and quickly excused herself to the bathroom.

* * *

5 Months Later:

It was a dreary, rainy day, the clouds relentless in their pursuit to drench people to the bone. But that didn't stop the graduating class from beaming with pure happiness. It was the last time they would have to be there, in that school. It was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

Vegeta kept his head down, staring at the grubby gym floor, the commotion around him easy enough to drown out. He slowly spun the silver wedding band on his ring finger, taking every second that past like a blow to the gut. It had been five months, which meant seven to go. How was he supposed to stay away from her for seven months? Already he was in agony. He barely worked anymore and had been kicked out of his apartment for a little over a month now. He lived with Kito; he hated her.

Looking up, he saw the redheaded bimbo, waving lazily at him as she talked on her cell phone. When he'd shown up on her doorstep, her immediate reaction had been to jump at him, to try to have sex with him. He'd shoved her back and growled, "I'm married." So the only reason she let him stay there was because her most recent ex wouldn't leave her alone. If Vegeta kept him away, he could stay.

Over the course his five-month exile, Vegeta learned just how suffocating loneliness could be. He had always considered himself a loner, but in actuality, he'd only been that way to everyone else. He'd had Goku before, always there for him, no matter what he did. Until he crossed the line. Since that day at the hospital, he hadn't spoken a word to Vegeta, turning away from him in the halls as he passed.

But there had been one moment inparticular that Vegeta couldn't scrape from his memory.

_The bell had rung five minutes ago, but Vegeta couldn't bring himself to go. Not today; not on his birthday, of all days. Or as his father had called it: the anniversary of his mother's death. Birthdays had never been good in the Ouji household._

_He rounded the corner and went flying back, nearly tumbling to the ground, if not for a hand that reached out and steadied him._

_Goku._

_He didn't say a word. Neither of them did. Vegeta stared at him, his gaze somewhere between annoyance and sadness; he was battling with himself, trying to be the person he'd always been. But he was losing. He tried to open his mouth, to say something, anything. Even a noise would have been better than nothing at all._

_"Goku!" Chi-Chi's voice carried from far down the corridor, where Vegeta couldn't see her. "We're late! Hurry up!" She came into view finally and nearly stopped, not wanting to approach. "Goku, are you alright?" she whispered uneasily, though Vegeta heard her perfectly clear._

_"I'm great," he said and smiled._

_Vegeta nearly broke his hand as he punched the nearest locker once he was alone again. Alone, as he always would be._

"Vegeta Ouji!"

He lifted his head at the screeching of the microphone, his name echoing off the walls of the gym. Slowly he stood, his airy black graduation robes making him appear like a floating ghost or grim reaper. It felt like eons before he reached the makeshift stage, the principal smiling at him as he took his diploma and quickly walked back to his seat. But before he reached the cold metal chair, his eyes caught _hers_ and he froze on the spot. She was staring at him, when for the past five months if her eyes ever came near him it was like she was looking through him, never _at_ him. But there was no mistaking her intentions, of catching him, stalling him.

He wanted to look away, to sit back down and hold his pain in, instead of having it open for all to see. But the way she looked at him, with neither compassion nor anger, made him stay put.

And then she smiled, sweetly, and gave him a tiny nod.

He never made it back to his chair. He walked right out of the gym. He didn't look back.

* * *

Bulma pushed and shoved through the crowds of people that all wanted to clear out of the gym first. Finally she'd had enough and screamed, "Move it!" Several people glared, but in the end she got her wish and was outside in no time.

The rain had cleared, but the day was still as gray as ever. She spotted him immediately, slumped under a tree, his diploma twisted in his hands.

"Vegeta," she said when she reached him.

He jumped, then looked up at her, confused, his face etched in stone. She wished, just once, he would show her real emotion. Hadn't they been through enough that he could give her that little thing?

"Don't say anything," she continued sternly. "You're coming to my house."

His expression dropped slightly, but he made no move to stand.

"If you're willing to come with me, then stand up now. Otherwise, it's seven months before you see me again."

There were so many questions that ran through his head. What was she doing? Why was she doing it? What was he supposed to do? But he couldn't talk; it was part of their agreement.

He frowned and stayed seated. No good could come from this. He asked her with his eyes what was going on.

"Come to my house," she repeated. "I'm leaving in two weeks for England. But before I go I want to be close to you once more." You didn't need to be a genius to know what she meant. She wanted sex, that's all. She didn't want him, his voice, his love. Just meaningless sex and then she'd kick him out of bed and it would be seven months until he saw or heard her. Hell, it would be seven months before he heard _about_ her, for who would he obtain the information from? He had no one. "I thought you wanted to be with me."

He opened his mouth, but stopped himself just in time, and shook his head. This was a test, he was sure of it. And nothing could make him lose his chance at having her back; nothing. Not even Bulma herself.

"You're making a big mistake," she hissed, sneering at him.

He shook his head again.

"Then you're always going to be alone, Vegeta." From her delicate fingers fell a small, folded piece of paper. "I'll see you in seven months."

He waited until she was gone to even so much as look at the paper. And then he unfolded it, confused by what was written.

_Meet me and 17 at Gero Inc. tomorrow at noon. Don't fuck everything in your life up._

"What the hell?" he murmured.

The rain started again, heavier, colder, meaner. Vegeta didn't move until it was done. His own almost-comfortable gown now clung to him like a bad smell, soaking him further. He tore it off, leaving it under the tree with his hat and diploma. With the note still clutched in his hand, he headed for work. It was signed: 18.

* * *

The waiting room was spacious and gaudy, the way all waiting rooms are, punishing you simply for being there. Six others sat in straight-backed chairs, thumbing through magazines or nervously darting their eyes from the clock to the crisp application in their hands. Vegeta was the only one whose foot wasn't tapping in the nauseating rhythm of fear and apprehension. Whatever happened to him today wouldn't change a thing; he would still be alone, loveless, friendless.

He ground his teeth as he checked the time. How long had he been here? An hour? He was missing valuable work time, and 18 had him waiting this long. She knew he couldn't afford to—

Of course she knew what she was doing. Why else would the twins want to see him? This wasn't about a job, it was about punishing him, making him pay for what he'd done to their friend.

He stood, fuming, his fists tiny wrecking balls at his sides. Yes he knew he deserved it. And yes he knew they were right to punish him. But he was Vegeta fucking Ouji. He didn't stand for this, no matter who they were or what he'd done. He'd been living by his own rules for so long; why should he start obeying others now? Getting berated by 17 and 18 wasn't going to change anything, and it certainly wasn't going to help him win back his wife. This was out of pure spite and he would have no part in it.

"Vegeta!" hissed a heated voice as he reached the door to leave. He turned, slowly, on his heels and glared at 18.

"What Gero?"

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Work," he bit. "This is a waste of my time." He turned back around, hell bent on actually leaving, when a delicate yet dangerous hand snatched his wrist.

"If you want to have a chance in hell of winning Bulma back," she breathed venomously in his ear so no one else could hear, "I suggest you follow me, because as things stand right now she's bound and determined to have your signature the second your year is up."

Vegeta's tense muscles relaxed and he dropped his head ever so slightly.

"Why are you helping me?" he said through his teeth. He didn't trust her.

"Come in and we'll explain everything." She smiled mockingly, didn't let go of his wrist, and dragged him into the room she'd just exited, a conference room. 17 sat, arms crossed, at the end of the table, making sure Vegeta caught his eyes and saw the bitter loathing they held. Clearly this was 18's idea.

18 tossed him unceremoniously into one of the puffed leather chairs, then went to sit beside her brother. Even with the tone set so darkly, he couldn't help but see the beauty in his blonde ex-friend. She wore a flattering women's suit of a deep navy blue, her silky frost-white top hanging loosely beneath the blazer; fashionable yet not at all lewd. The matching skirt was hiked to mid-thigh and her sleek black stilettos made sharp, biting sounds when she walked. She looked professional, not at all the way she normally did.

She reminded him of Bulma. He frowned.

"Bored Ouji?" 17 asked harshly. "Are we wasting your time?"

"As a matter of fact, 17, you're not." This gave him pause. "Now that I know the purpose for bringing me here, I won't leave until what's done is done."

"Fuck off."

"Shove it."

"Both of you shut up," 18 piped in. She slid a slim binder across the table. Vegeta caught it and opened it.

"What's this?" Though he knew perfectly well what it was.

"We're offering you a job, fuckhead."

"17!"

"Why?" Vegeta asked, confused. "I thought—"

"That we wanted to see Bulma miserable and alone?"

Vegeta said nothing and shut the binder.

"Bulma wants to be with you, but you're too thick to see that. All you can see right now is her anger. But she loves you."

"No," Vegeta said softly, expressing real emotion for the first time since he'd gotten there. "She doesn't. And I'm leaving."

* * *

Ahhh! What a dumb Vegeta! Why is he leaving? Because I made him, that's why :P

**REVIEW!**

**P.S. **Yes, Bulma was testing Vegeta after graduation. And he passed :)


	14. British Brute

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"Bulma wants to be with you, but you're too thick to see that. All you can see right now is her anger. But she loves you."

"No," Vegeta said softly, expressing real emotion for the first time since he'd gotten there. "She doesn't. And I'm leaving."

* * *

Chapter 14: British Brute

"This isn't going to help anyone, and you know it."

Vegeta looked up at one of the few people who dared touch him, eying the blonde-haired beauty as if she were his greatest enemy. Truth be told, if he wanted to find his greatest enemy, he need only look in a mirror.

He growled deep in the back of his throat, but gave no hint he was going to answer.

"Bulma wants this for you, even now, even when she hates the very thought of you. And don't pretend like you don't need it, because everyone knows you sure as hell do."

They stood in the hall outside 17 and 18's conference room, the aqua blue carpet immediately reminding him of Bulma. He was thankful that 17 had decided to remain behind the closed door, for he didn't think he would have been able to stand two angry former-friends wishing to disembowel him at the same time.

"This is your last chance to do something right for a change, Vegeta," she sighed, playing the guilt card. "We could really use a brain like yours on our upcoming project." She moved her hand from his elbow—where she'd grabbed him roughly to a halt—and placed it gently on his shoulder. "You'll be helping so many people."

"And what do I care—"

"Think before you speak for once," she groaned, dropping her arms at her sides. "Bulma is keeping tabs on you, or haven't you figured that out by now?" He sighed. Of course he had. "By helping up when we need you, you'll show her that you're making an effort, that you can be the man she fell in love with. But," she turned back towards the conference room, "if you think this is all a 'big waste of time', then by all means get the hell off our property."

Her fingers were inches from the doorknob when Vegeta grabbed it instead, opening the door and stepping aside.

"Lady's first," he said through gritted teeth.

She smiled and obliged.

"I knew you'd see it my way."

* * *

The world seemed different now, sullied. A gentle shade of vomit-pink-gray stuck like a flaky film over the lens of sight, blurring the present, obstructing the future. A bird called softly to the dawn, offering hope. Then a growl and a cry, the bird and its song consumed by a predator.

Bulma sighed painfully and closed her eyes, allowing her head to drop back as she sat in the park a few blocks from her campus. English men and women went about their business around her, but she ignored them, as she had been for the two months she'd been there. Soon she would have to make friends, people she could spend time with to get her mind off of less pleasant thoughts. But, until then, she was content to sit alone in the park or, if the urge struck her, take her jet back to Japan and spend the weekend with Chi-Chi and the others.

She was about to get up and go back to her apartment to get some homework done, when a dark shadow blocked the sun, causing her to look up.

"Good afternoon," came a silky British accent, accompanied by one of the most gorgeous men Bulma had ever seen. Vegeta, of course, was always number one to her, even with all the hate she harbored for him, but this man was certainly a close second.

"Good afternoon," she replied, tilting her head to the side in confusion. Though gorgeous, he was still a stranger. "Can I help you?"

"Can you help me?" he repeated, taking the unoffered seat beside her. "Well, I suppose you could. First, let me introduce myself. My name is Benjamin Colt. And before you inquire, I'm not randomly approaching you. You see, we both attend Claremont University up on the hill." He pointed for emphasis. "I believe we're in the same Anthropology class, and I was wondering if you would mind terribly if I bought you a cup of tea sometime."

* * *

"Come on, fruitcake!" Vegeta hissed. "Three more, that's all you need!"

17 scoffed at the playful insult, clenched his teeth, and pumped the 200lbs bar in the air. Once. Twice. Three times. Vegeta, who stood behind his head, helped set the bar back in place, offering 17 his water bottle. It had been several long months since Bulma left for England, and over that time—while working long hours in the lab together—17 had forgiven Vegeta and they were good friends again. Goku still wouldn't be seen in the same room as him, but word had it that he was beginning to soften.

There had been a lot of changes for Vegeta since graduation. He no longer worked at Rick's or SCC, but worked fulltime for the twins, making more money in a single day than he could have in a month working both jobs combined. He now attended Satan University, taking evening classes. The twins assured him that going to college didn't matter, seeing as he now worked for them, but he insisted for his own reasons and not another word was said. And, now that he had a hefty salary, he moved out of his old apartment, taking a room in the twins' building as part of his bonus package. Ever cautious of losing favor with them, he weekly looked for a new place to live, just in case he needed to leave promptly.

"Goku mentioned you last night."

Vegeta's ears perked, but he gave no sign he was listening or had even heard. He dabbed his face with his towel, then looked around the gym for a new exercise to do.

"I said—"

"If he doesn't come to me, then there's no use in me knowing. Now I know you're a girl at heart," he chuckled cruelly, "but I don't gossip like you."

"He wants to see you."

Vegeta stopped mid-step on the way to the punching bag.

"Me and 18 are having everyone over for dinner tonight. You, Krillin, Chi-Chi, AND Goku." Dinner with Krillin and Chi-Chi was normal at the twins house when Vegeta was there. She wouldn't talk to him, but every now and then he caught her looking at him, as if trying to read his thoughts. Goku, of course, never came near the building when he knew Vegeta was at _his_ friends' apartment. "He wants me to give you a warning, however."

"Typical," Vegeta said under his breath.

"He wants to get everything out before you can say anything. He doesn't think he'll be able to say what he wants if you're interrupting him."

"And what makes him think I would agree to such nonsense?"

"Because," 17 laughed, "he won't talk to you unless you agree. And, deny it all you want, you miss him."

"Hmph."

* * *

Vegeta sat in the twins' living room, awkwardly playing with folding in his jeans as he awaited Chi-Chi and Goku's arrival. 17 was busy in the kitchen making dinner, while 18 and Krillin were elsewhere, leaving him to stew in his thoughts, which were oddly not all of Bulma. She occupied a permanent space in his mind, but, as he sat in his new friends' living room, he couldn't help but think of his life and how things had turned up for him. Everything was going perfectly, with the heart-wrenchingly obvious exception of his disastrous marriage. He never thought he could be at this point in his life, Rick's and the hole-in-the-wall apartment far in the past.

The ringing of the doorbell brought Vegeta from his thoughts, replacing them with anxiety he had never known before. Perhaps changing for the better wasn't, in fact, always better.

17, in oven mitts, came out of the kitchen and opened the door. Vegeta clenched the sides of the armchair he sat in, seriously contemplating making a run for it.

"Hi Chi," 17 said, kissing her on the cheek. "Where's Goku?"

Vegeta's heart eased to a steady rhythm.

"Got caught up with his grandpa," she said, pulling off her coat. "He'll be here in a half an hour. Where's 18?"

"Well it's nice to see you too," he laughed, taking her coat. "She's in the back with cueball. Why, what's up?"

"Girl talk, nothing you'd be interested in."

"Ha," Vegeta laughed, unable to help himself. "17 is more suited for girl talk than 18 will ever be."

"True," Chi-Chi agreed, not looking at him. "But, all the same, Bulma asked me to talk with 18 first."

A few moments later and Krillin emerged from the back of the apartment, looking rather dejected.

"Damn girl talk," he murmured, taking a seat opposite Vegeta. He was about to strike up a conversation, when Vegeta stood and mumbled that he had to use the bathroom.

He knew he shouldn't, knew he'd be drawn and quartered if he were caught, but he just couldn't help himself. Beyond 18's bedroom door she and Chi-Chi were deep in a hushed conversation, and Bulma was the topic. Pressing his ear to the door, he did his very best not to breathe.

"What's this all about?" 18 asked. He heard some shuffling and a door being opened and assumed she was still getting ready for dinner. "You look green. Do you think you're pregnant again?"

"Thank Kami no," Chi-Chi sighed. Vegeta frowned. They'd had a pregnancy scare and he didn't know about it? "It's about Bulma. She said she didn't have time to call both of us, so she wanted me to relay the message."

"What's up? Is she flying in again for the weekend? 'Cause I can't very well make Vegeta leave." Vegeta he frowned, this time deeper. Bulma had been coming back to Japan regularly and he didn't know about it! Some friends he had! But then, that would be violating their agreement, and nothing could make him do that.

"He'd deserve it," Chi-Chi scoffed. "But no. It's…well…it's about a guy she met."

Vegeta's heart sank. Kami no! Kami no! He clenched his fists at his sides and took several deep, would-calming breaths.

"A guy?" 18's voice sounded betrayingly optimistic. "She met a guy?"

"Yeah, apparently he just came up to her in the park last week and asked her out for tea, said he was in one of her classes. His name's Ben."

"So, he asked her out?"

Silence. Vegeta assumed Chi-Chi had just nodded.

"Well? What did she say?"

"She—"

"Vegeta Ouji!" 17 hissed, yanking him away from the door. "You're damn lucky it was _me_ who found you eavesdropping. I doubt anyone else would have let it side. You know you're not allowed to hear news about Bulma! Those are the rules."

"Fuck the rules!" he countered, shoving 17 into the room on the other side of the hall and closing the door. "She's seeing someone else, 17! Some snobby Brit! Now why should I follow the rules if she's seeing someone behind my back! We're married, for Kami's sake!"

"A marriage, let me remind you, that she tried to annul, that she believes was false to begin with. Did you never expect her to date?"

Vegeta took several steps back and groaned.

"Why am I even trying?" he sighed angrily. "She's so damn stubborn, there's no use. I should just—"

"Give up? Now that is certainly not the Vegeta I know. Just because she went on a date with the guy, doesn't mean she's going to fall in love with him. She has to follow the rules too, you know. For all you know she went to tea with him and discussed politics. Hell! He could be gay!" He flashed a devilish grin. "Perhaps I should give Bulma a call."

Vegeta wrinkled his nose, but said nothing.

"I better get back to dinner. And you better get back to the living room. Goku will be here any minute."

As if Vegeta's night couldn't get any worse. He'd completely forgotten about Goku.

* * *

Goku, as expected, ignored Vegeta for the entirety of the meal. It wasn't until everyone was seated in the living room with glasses of wine that Goku made his move.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta looked up, scanning the others for reactions. They were appropriately silent.

"Can I speak with you in the other room?"

He didn't say a word and stood, allowing his former best friend to lead the way.

Goku chose 17's room for the battleground, shutting the door behind them. He took a seat at the desk, motioning for Vegeta to sit if he wanted to. Vegeta decided to stand.

"Are you going to rip me a new one or what?" Vegeta asked, unable to take the silence any longer.

"Watch it," Goku warned. "You agreed to my terms, so shut that mouth before I leave and forget you for good."

Against his will, Vegeta shut his mouth.

"Look, you think it's easy for me to stop talking to you for what you did. And it should be, because you don't deserve friends after what you did. You hurt me and Bulma in more ways than you can imagine, and you hurt yourself too. You ruined your chances at a pure relationship with anyone, because in the back of all our minds we're wondering when you're going to screw us over again."

Vegeta opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself just in time. Goku smiled meekly, noticing his struggle.

"But, these past few months you've done nothing but prove yourself. You work long hours for the twins, you go to school, you give 17 relationship advice."

At this Vegeta let out a muffled laugh. So 17 did tell Goku everything.

"You're still Vegeta, you always will be. But, somehow, you've changed. Now I'm not saying I can be your friend again, it will take a lot more to win me over, but I am willing to give you a chance. But," he said, narrowing his eyebrows, "it is your _only_ chance. Fuck up again and _no one_ will have sympathy for you."

He leaned back in his chair and gestured for Vegeta to speak.

"I changed long before Bulma left for England," he said, saying the first thing that came to mind. "When I married her—"

"We know," he sighed, rolling his eyes. Vegeta almost laughed at how absolutely like himself he was acting. It gave him pause. "But that still doesn't change the fact that you didn't confess to her when you could. And for that, I don't think anyone could forgive you. That was _completely _your doing."

"I know," Vegeta sighed, shaking his head. "But I…I…I love her Kakarot." Finally he took a seat on the bed. "She did something to me that I can't explain. I fucked up, I know that. But what none of you seem to understand is that I can make up for it too."

Goku's eyes softened at his words and he nodded.

"I'm going to tell you something if you promise not to tell a single soul."

Vegeta nodded.

"Bulma was asked out by a British guy. She called Chi-Chi and told her all about him, how handsome and nice and funny he is, how she'd never met anyone so cultured."

Vegeta gripped the edge of the mattress. Another word about how great the damn Brit was and he was going to break something.

"But then she said how no matter how much time she spent with the guy she couldn't get _you_ out of her head. Every word he spoke she compared it to something you'd said. Every place they went reminded her of you. She agreed to go to tea with him, Vegeta, but only as a friend. She's still in love with you."

Vegeta dropped his eyes and sighed loudly a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Kakarot," he said, standing to leave.

"Just don't make me regret it."

Vegeta smirked and nodded.

"As fun as it seems," he laughed, "I don't particularly enjoy having everyone I know hate me."

* * *

Damn, I am such a jerk for taking so long to continue this story. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait. I miss writing so much, but I really, honestly, don't have the time when I'm at school. Thank Kami I'm home for the summer. Creative drive, here I come!

As always REVIEW!


	15. Impromptu Apology

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"Thanks Kakarot," he said, standing to leave.

"Just don't make me regret it."

Vegeta smirked and nodded.

"As fun as it seems," he laughed, "I don't particularly enjoy having everyone I know hate me."

* * *

Chapter 15: Impromptu Apology

Yamcha walked as quickly as he could through the crowded city streets, glancing at the piece of paper with directions on it every few paces to make sure he was headed the right way. It'd been less than forty minutes since he'd come into the city, but already he was frantic and miserable. His only consolation was his pure intentions, something that he'd been lacking ever since Bulma left him. It was his own fault, of course. How could he have been so stupid? So selfish? So cruel? She was supposed to be the love of his life, and he'd meticulously planned her demise. It made him want to vomit just thinking about it.

"Excuse me?"

Yamcha came to a jittery stop, having been deep in thought. He blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing correctly, as the most beautiful woman since Bulma stood before him, her honey-colored hair and soft green eyes capturing him immediately.

"Hello," he said stupidly, confused as to the attention she was showing him.

"Are you lost?" She pointed at the map and scrap of paper in his hands. "I've lived here all my life. I could help you if you need."

"I—" He wanted to protest, to deny that he was lost and needed her help. But, at the same time, he didn't want to leave her, and allowing her to help him gave him more time with this tall, foreign beauty. "If you can spare a few minutes," he finally said, handing her the directions he'd jotted down before leaving.

"Well," she said, biting her lip as she thought. He thought he'd never seen anything so adorable. "We're on Lexington Circle, the north side. Rosewood Avenue is, oh, twenty kilometers south of here. You'll see the hill before you see the university."

"Thank you—"

"Abby," she said, extending her hand to shake.

"Abby." He obliged, marveling at how smooth and soft her skin was. "I'm Yamcha."

"Hello Yamcha. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"What?"

She giggled softly, shaking her head. "On the hill. I hope you find whatever it is."

"Oh." A deep crimson crept into his cheeks. He'd completely forgotten why he was here. "Right. Uh…well…uh… Abby, thank you for your help. But I really must get going."

"Not a problem stranger. Maybe I'll see you around."

He continued on in the direction he was going, then stopped, took a deep breath and turned back around. Screaming out as if in pain, he stumbled back, nearly falling flat on his rear. Abby stood just inches before him.

"You Japanese scare easily," she laughed.

"Are you following me?"

"Well I noticed how hesitant you were just a moment ago," she explained. "I'm not a shy person, Yamcha. I'll ask you out for tea if you don't ask me first."

The blush returned to his cheeks with a vengeance.

"I—"

"8:00 is fine for me."

He smiled and nodded.

"Meet me at the bottom of the hill at 8:00. I know the best Japanese place to get tea."

* * *

Bulma pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail and went to retrieve her running shoes. Ever since she was young, running had been one of her best ways of relieving stress. Of course she always had her projects, but when those were the problem, then running was the solution. She pulled on a light jacket before leaving, and went out the side door of the apartment building, intending to run laps on the track at the school. She jogged at an even pace for two blocks, then turned and headed east another block to reach the school. She was just about to sprint across the quad to the track, when someone caught her eye. Nearly tripping over her feet, she came to a stop, breathing slightly heavier than normal.

"Yamcha?" she exclaimed, unable to think of a single reason she would see him here.

"Hi," he said sheepishly, walking up to her. "I've been waiting here for almost two hours, hoping you'd come by."

"Couldn't get my address from my parents?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. It had been so long since she'd talked to him, or even thought about him, that all the anger and betrayal came flooding back, knocking the wind out of her. "How dare you come to London to find me!" she cried, shoving him back. "I may not have said it out loud, Yamcha, but I thought I made it clear that I _never_ wanted to see you again."

"I came here to apologize," he said quickly, before she could yell anymore. "I came here to say that you were right, that I should never have done what I did. I can't take it back, but I can make it up to you."

"And just how do you plan on doing that? It's bad enough that you made me feel like shit for dumping you—when I had no choice! I didn't love you, it would have been unfair—but then you hired Vegeta to date and dumb me, just so you could get revenge! It's fucking pathetic."

"I know," he sighed, hanging his head in shame. "I regret it. I don't know why I took it that far, and I could never be sorry enough."

"No you couldn't," she spat.

"Look, I deserve all of this, I know that. But please, just listen to this one thing I have to say. Then you can yell all you want. You can punch me too, if you'd like. But this is important."

Bulma crossed her arms rigidly over her chest.

"You have one minute."

"Vegeta loves you, Bulma." She rolled her eyes. "No, listen. He loves you, maybe even more than I did. He screwed up, but that was before he knew you, before he loved you. He was in a terrible spot in his life. Have you ever seen his apartment building?" She ignored the question. "I don't even want to know what the rooms look like. Anyway, what I'm trying to tell you is that he tried to call it off, he wanted out, because he fell for you. He stopped cashing the checks, stopped everything. And then he asked you to marry him, because he was desperate to have you. You know," he laughed, shaking his head. "He sent me a check a few months back, for the full amount I'd given him."

He looked up to see if Bulma was listening, and was surprised to find the anger hadn't gone. In fact, her eyes smoldered with new found hatred, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Get the fuck out of here!" she yelled, lunging at him. Her fists collided with his chest, but her effort soon fled and she slumped to the ground and burst into tears.

"Bulma!"

"Why?" she whispered, her eyes on the ground. "Why?"  
"Why what?" But she couldn't hear him.

"Why? Why did I have to love him? Why?"

"Come on." Yamcha bent down and lifted her up, not letting go until she was steady on two legs. "I'll walk you back to your place."

It took no more than fifteen minutes and they were in her living room, a warm cup of tea in her hands and a blanket around her shoulders. Yamcha stood by the door, ready to leave when she told him to.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, looking into her cup. "I can't forgive him. I can't stay married to him. But I can't just stop loving him. Yamcha," she said, looking at him. He nearly froze at the intensity her eyes showed. She must love him more than he thought. "I can't hate you or Vegeta for what you did, because it brought him to me. But, at the same time, what you did makes it impossible for me to trust him, or you. How can I be with him if I can't trust him?"

"The question is, how can you _not_ be with him when you love him as much as you do?"

* * *

Sitting back on her knees, Chi-Chi whipped her mouth with the back of her hand. The pain in her stomach had been reduced to a dull throb, but she still felt as though she wasn't quite done bonding with her father's toilet bowl. It was late in the afternoon, so she was done with classes for the day. She had decided to live at home rather than the dorms at Satan University to save money and, fortunately, her father wouldn't be home for another few hours and she had some time to sort her thoughts.

Taking a shaky breath, she stood, flushed the toilet, then peeled off her shirt and the rest of her clothes. A hot, soothing shower would do her good, she thought. Climbing into the tub and turning on the faucet to get the right temperature, she told herself that she would tell Goku tomorrow, when she found the right words.

Six Weeks Later:

Vegeta pulled his headphones off his ears and listened. A second later and the phone rang again. He set aside the textbook he'd been studying and answered it.

"Yeah?" he snapped. He was busy; he didn't need any interruptions.

"Vegeta?" came Chi-Chi's miserable, trembling voice.

"What?"

"Vegeta, please," she pleaded, and for a moment it registered that he'd never heard her sound this vulnerable. "I need your help."

"No one else around?" he spat with venom. "You hardly look at me—let alone speak to me—and now you want a _favor_? Right."

"Vegeta," she whispered, a sob caught in her throat. "Please…"

He sighed, glanced at his homework, then said, "What do you want?"

She got out half a word, then burst into tears, making it impossible for her to continue.

"I'll be right over," he said, then hung up the phone. As he pulled on his sweatshirt, an eerie chill rattled his bones. Chi-Chi Mau was one of the toughest people he knew, someone who gave demands. He'd never known her once to ask for help—or rather, beg. With that thought in mind, he didn't take his time getting downstairs to his car. He ran as fast as he could.

* * *

She was hysterical by the time he got there, her face red and puffy, with snot dripping from her nose as if she were a three-year-old girl who'd just been teased by her brother. She sat curled on the floor, knees to her chest. Her clothes were wrinkled and askew, her hair not in much better shape, but the most startling thing of all was the huge red blood stain on the inside of her legs. Gasping, he stumbled to her side, grabbing her stark white face with both hands.

"Chi-Chi!" he yelled.

She looked at him with terror-stricken eyes, her bottom lip trembling.

"Chi-Chi, listen to me," he said, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice steady. If not for her sake, then for his own. What the hell was going on! "The hospital is only a few minutes away. I need you to stand for me, can you do that?"

She nodded so slowly that he almost didn't see her head move.

Putting his arm around her back, he helped her to stand. She was alright for a moment, then crumpled back to the floor, a fresh batch of tears staining her cheeks. He contemplated calmly asking her to stand again, then decided it would take too long, and instead gathered her in his arms like an infant and carried her to his car. She was shivering as if it were 20 below by the time he got her buckled in.

The drive to the hospital took longer than expected, due to the fact that he'd forgotten about construction on the main road and had to take the detour. But, ten minutes later, and he was carrying her into the hospital, her body covered in a thick layer of sweat and her head rolling back.

"I need help!" he yelled, startling many of the nurses in the Emergency Room. An older nurse with heavy wrinkles frowned at him, then gasped and rushed over, telling him which door to take her through. Once beyond the doors, a startled ER doctor took her from him, ordering him to wait in the waiting room.

"I am not—"

"Do as you're told, unless you want to jeopardize your girlfriend any further!"

Vegeta didn't bother to correct the man, and left the room. If they thought he was her boyfriend then he would get answers easier. After an hour of waiting, he began to pace, the thought of calling Goku tearing through his mind like rats in a maze. Several times he took out his cell phone and highlighted Goku's name, but in the end closed the phone and sighed. It wasn't his decision, but the semi-conscious girl's in the room beyond closed doors.

Another hour passed slowly, and by the time the ER doctor came back out, Vegeta had taken a seat and was tapping his feet to keep himself from going crazy.

"Excuse me?"

Vegeta jumped up, nearly assaulting the doctor with words.

"What happened? Is she alright? Is she alive?"

"Calm down," he said, his voice soft and formal-sounding. This was his doctor voice, Vegeta figured. "She's resting, and you can come see her now..."

"Vegeta," he offered.

"Vegeta. She kept asking for a Goku. Is that her brother?"

"Yes," he said, not wanting to be denied access to her. He couldn't let her down, or anyone else. And besides, whether he could admit it to himself or not, he did care about her.

"Ok. Follow me."

She looked so small lying on the generic hospital cot, her eyes glazed over. She smiled meekly when Vegeta walked in, not saying a word when he took a seat in a conveniently-placed chair beside her. The ER doctor told them he was going to get her paperwork, then left them in silence.

Minutes passed before Vegeta found the words to say.

"Never do that again," he warned, now unable to look at her. She placed a cold hand on his knee.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse, but calm. She'd resigned to her fate. He was just glad she was conscious and not crying. "I tried calling everyone else, but no one answered."

"You don't have to apologize," he forced himself to say, when really he wanted to scream at her for scaring him the way she had. She shook her head at his words, however, her lips puckered around the straw of a juice box. She gulped down a few more sips, then set it on the table on the other side of the bed.

"No," she said, her eyes seeming to clear. "I'm apologizing because you were my last resort. I promise, that will _never_ be the case again. You saved me, Vegeta."

He opened his mouth to protest, for surely she hadn't been in mortal danger. He'd calmed himself enough in the waiting room in the past two hours to have figured out what happened: she had been pregnant and miscarried the child.

"I'm serious," she said, narrowing her brow. "And I'm glad it was you. Now I see what Bulma has seen all along."

"They must have you hopped up on strong meds," he joked, forcing a laugh.

"Vegeta?"

He looked up. The fear wasn't completely gone from either of their eyes.

"Don't tell Goku, ok?"

He nodded slowly. He didn't need to be told that Goku hadn't known about the pregnancy. It wasn't his place to tell, and therefore he wouldn't.

"I'll go see if that doctor has the paperwork ready yet."

"Hey," she called when he was nearly out the door. He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Thank you."

* * *

Ok, so there is Chapter 15. Maybe two more and I should be done. Who knows, maybe one will do it. I have a few scattered ideas for the ending, but I just have to figure some more stuff out before committing it to the site. Bear with me :P

REVIEW!!


	16. Selfish Secrets

Last time:

"I'll go see if that doctor has the paperwork ready yet."

"Hey," she called when he was nearly out the door. He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Thank you."

* * *

Chapter 16: Selfish Secrets

Bulma boarded her jet to Japan twenty minutes after receiving Chi-Chi's hauntingly subdued phone call. Her face was white, her skin clammy. Yamcha, ever worried for her safety and well-being, gently reached over and clasped her hand, his other still on the jet's controls. Generally he hated flying and had been adamant about not learning to use Bulma's jet when they were dating, but today he was glad she'd been so insistent—she was in no condition to fly.

Abby was making a constant loop through his mind, but he was sure she would understand. As Bulma frantically looked for her keys after talking to Chi-Chi, he had been busy calling her and left her a quick message, promising to call later. At the moment Bulma was the most important thing; he only hoped that not meeting her at the tea house, as was their custom for the past six weeks of knowing each other, would stain her impression of him. She was the first girl since Bulma that he felt himself both physically and mentally attracted to. He would of course deserve it if she were to never speak to him again, but he hoped somehow he'd redeemed himself enough to avoid it. The past few weeks had been nothing short of miraculous for him. Having reconciled with Bulma, they began to speak regularly on the phone and today, instead of flying in solely to see Abby, he'd made plans to have lunch with Bulma. He opted to not tell her about Abby, for two reasons: so he didn't jinx himself, but also because he felt he didn't deserve to be happy and that by going on bi-weekly dates with her he somehow didn't deserve Bulma's acceptance of his apology.

"What's her name?"

Yamcha was so startled out of his thoughts that he nearly tipped the nose of the jet through a flock of oncoming birds.

"That cute, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's going to be a few hours to Japan, Yamcha. I'll go crazy worrying about Chi-Chi if I just sit here and think about what happened to her…So, tell me here name."

"It's Abby," he confessed, blushing madly.

"So she's British?"

He nodded. Bulma smiled knowingly.

"Good for you."

* * *

Vegeta paced the length of the room so many times Chi-Chi wondered if he would wear a trail in the rug. Every so often she would see his fists clench and unclench, and his mouth twitch as if he were on the verge of speaking, but never did. Finally, after a good twenty minutes of pacing, he halted mid-stride and turned to face her sitting huddled on her bed, clenching an untouched and cold mug of tea. They had only been back from the hospital for a short while, because they had to stay and make sure she was good enough to leave and all the paperwork was filled out.

"So Kakarot doesn't know you were pregnant?"

She nodded slowly.

"And you don't want him to know or that you miscarried?"

Again she nodded, her eyes downcast.

"But you're fine with me knowing?"

"I was going to tell him!" Chi-Chi asserted, setting her mug down. "But he's so caught up in school work and his problems with you that I didn't have the heart to tell him. And now…"

"Now you don't have to."

She nodded, sighing.

"I know it sounds horrible, Vegeta, but why tell him when it won't change anything?"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and studied his new friend, calculating her motives. Then he frowned.

"You're punishing him," he sighed, shaking his head.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't even pretend to not know what I mean. You're still upset that he never told you about us and now this is your way of getting back at him."

"How dare—"

"Chi-Chi Mau!" he snapped, slamming his fist on the desk beside him. "Stop lying to me!"

"You're one to talk about lies, Vegeta!"  
"Don't turn this around on me! I've paid for my mistakes!"  
"Are you sure about that?"

"Kakarot is hot-headed and stubborn."

"And you're not?"

"This isn't about me! It's about you and Kakarot and what you're keeping from him!"  
"I'm not going to hurt him if I don't have to!"  
"You're lying!"

"What the hell is going on in here!?"

Chi-Chi and Vegeta—red-faced from anger—turned to find Bulma standing in the doorway, her face a mixture of anger, confusion, and concern.

"I better go," Vegeta whispered, addressing Chi-Chi, then slipped past Bulma without so much as a glance.

* * *

Vegeta wasn't entirely surprised when, around eleven o'clock that evening, he opened his apartment door to find Bulma standing there, her eyes pink from crying.

"I know you're not going to say anything, and I guess it's better that you don't. May I come in?"

He stepped aside, allowing her entrance, then shut the door and went to the kitchen to get them drinks while she got comfortable. A minute later and they were seated awkwardly in his living room, Bulma's eyes shifting around the bare walls with their lack of personality. Was he planning on moving? Why was this place so cold? So devoid of human touch? Sighing, she realized the reason: he was skeptical, ever-cautious that his new life would fall apart just like so many things in his past, just like her. Granted it was his own fault, and he had plenty of opportunity to tell her the truth, but then that was who he was. Strong, arrogant, and stubborn. Admitting a fault would not have been in keeping with his character, would not have been him, the man she fell in love with, the man she still loved, her husband.

Sighing painfully, she reached into the collar of her shirt and pulled out her necklace, a simple silver ring with a simple silver chain threaded through it, her wedding ring. Slipping the chain off her neck, she set it on the coffee table and began to speak.

"I've done a lot of thinking since we last saw each other at graduation. It's almost been a year, you know."

Vegeta's face remained blank, but she could detect small changes in his demeanor. He was absorbing her every word.

"Yamcha came to see me awhile back and I was so angry at him. I didn't understand why he would continue to pursue my attention when I made it so clear that he was no longer a part of my life. What he did…Kami, I'll never forget the feeling I had that day. It was so abrupt, so final, so disappointing. I was crushed, so much so that I couldn't even respond to it all until later, until my brain allowed me to realize what had fully happened. And then I cried until my eyes were dry and I moved to England. I planned to give you your year, tough out what I considered a false marriage, then return to Japan for my divorce. After that I would go back to England, finish my degree, then start my life. I had it all planned out, everything was fine, until Yamcha arrived…"

Bulma paused for a long time, as if collecting her thoughts, and took a long sip of the tea Vegeta had given her. But there was no need to think about what she intended to say, she knew, it was getting it out that was the problem.

"I'm not going to tell you what Yamcha said, only that it changed some things for me. Not everything, not even close, but enough that I'm here now and a year hasn't passed yet…I guess the main thing I realized was that in my plan, at the end, I was supposed to start my life…What I realized," she whispered, taking one deep, shaking breath, "is…I can't have a life without you."

Vegeta's heart stopped and his eyes widened the smallest fraction, but other than that he gave no sign that he'd heard.

"I know it contradicts what I've held onto since this all started, but things can change, you change. And you changed me…or at least how I see things. I was so sure that when someone hurt you that badly they didn't deserve you anymore, that their punishment was moving on without them…but I'd be lying if I tried to say that I wasn't punishing myself too. For not listening to Goku and pursuing you so adamantly. For not listening to my gut when things were going so great with you, but I had doubts, huge doubts. And for marrying you without voicing those doubts. I'm smarter than that, but I got caught up with you and everything else…For once I wanted to live like everyone else, to just be and say 'screw it' to any consequences that might happen as a result of not thinking things over or taking things slowly…I see now why I've been that way all my life, because I can't just ignore the consequences. I'm the type of person that strives to avoid them…I don't know what I'm trying to get at by telling you this, other than I want you to know that I'm beginning to understand you and why you did what you did and that, someday soon, I hope we can have a real talk and work some things out."

Bulma stood to leave, her manner slow and hesitant.

"And thank you so much for what you did for Chi-Chi," she said, leaning down to embrace him, her small warm frame fitting perfectly against him. Before he could react she pulled away, grabbing her necklace as she stood. "It makes me love you even more."

And then she was gone, headed back for England, and his head was spinning out of control.

* * *

"She loves me," Vegeta said, pacing back and forth in front of 17, who watched with practiced patience. "She understands my motives, she even claims to take some of the blame herself, but she still won't stop this foolishness!"

"First of all," 17 said, reaching out and stopping him in his tracks, "calm down. You've been doing great for almost a year. Don't crash now just because Bulma's playing games with you."

"That's just it!" he snapped, wrenching himself free of 17's grasp. "She's doing to me what I did to her, she's retaliating in a way so like…"

"You?"

Sighing, Vegeta nodded.

"Doesn't she have the right? After all that's happened? She was betrayed by two people she loved, two people who claimed they loved her too. Now if that doesn't seriously fuck with someone's head then I don't know what will. Besides, I could be wrong."

"About?"

"The fact that she's toying with you. Maybe she has legitimate reasons for why she came to you. Maybe she's punishing herself for allowing this to happen. Didn't you tell me that she said something to that effect? I've known her a long time, Vegeta, and that sounds more like Bulma than the other. She prides herself on her intelligence, on the fact that she is smart enough to avoid detrimental situations. And then you show up and throw her world out of order. Your little act made her fall for you, and then it turned to genuine love, but maybe it was too late. I don't know, Vegeta, this whole situation is fucked."

"You're telling me," he groaned. "So has Mau told Kakarot yet?" he asked, changing the subject.

"No," he sighed, frowning. "But I think she will soon. He knows something is going on, but he's not going to say anything. I think he knows Chi-Chi well enough to let things be. Besides, he probably feels bad about keeping your friendship a secret from her for so long, so he won't be the first to talk."

This was not what Vegeta wanted to hear. Without a word he pulled on his shoes, grabbed his jacket, and left 17 alone and smiling.

"Good for you, Vegeta," he said to Vegeta's empty apartment. "You're finally starting to see what's really important."

* * *

"Vegeta!" Chi-Chi and Goku cried in unison as he burst through Chi-Chi's bedroom door unannounced. Fumbling to cover themselves, the couple untangled their naked limbs and sat up, glaring at their friend.

"What the hell Vegeta!" Goku spat, pulling on his boxers under the thin sheet, then stood to confront him. "What do you think—"

"I need to talk to Chi-Chi," he interrupted, his eyes carefully trained on Goku rather than his naked girlfriend. "It's important."

"I don't—"

"Goku," Chi-Chi said, coming to stand beside him, her body wrapped in the sheet. "He's right. We do need to talk. Could you please go start dinner? My dad will be home soon and he'll give you a hand."

Goku went to protest, but the look in her eyes gave him pause. He quickly got dressed, shot Vegeta a warning glare, then left them alone.

Before either spoke a word, Vegeta turned and covered his eyes with his hand, giving Chi-Chi plenty of time to get her clothes on.

"You can turn around now," she said, taking a seat at her vanity, a brush in hand.

"You still haven't told him," Vegeta pointed out. "It's been almost a week. Are you really going to do this to him? He doesn't—"

"You're awfully compassionate for someone who took money to break a girl's heart." The moment it left her lips she regretted it and frowned, setting down her brush. "I'm sorry Vegeta. I didn't mean—"

"No, you did, and I get it. I'm a monster. I know that. But you aren't. You and Kakarot…Kami damn it! You two have a life together, you're happy and you can work! Me and Bulma…I have no idea…I don't know if things will ever be good enough to make things work, but you and Kakarot have it. Why would you jeopardize that? Why would you risk it? Why—"

"Because I'm terrified!" she screamed, throwing herself at him, her fists flying so fast he wasn't able to dodge the first few before he grabbed her wrists and forced her off of him. "Oh Kami," she sobbed, falling into his chest, the violence completely gone out of her, to be replaced with small, fragile tears. "I'm so scared, Vegeta…What…What is he going to say? He's been through so much in his life, so much in the past year. How can I tell him that I was pregnant? That we might have had a baby? But because I was too stupid to tell anyone, to see a doctor—"

"Stop it," he snapped, pulling her back enough so they were looking at each other. "It's not your fault the baby miscarried. There's nothing that could have stopped it from happening, so stop thinking that, you're being pitiful." Chi-Chi's nose wrinkled in shock and anger, but he continued regardless. "Look, I came here to say one thing: I envy you and Kakarot. I envy your relationship and how stable you are. Yes he kept a secret from you, but that was my fault, I forced him to. He regrets it, he feels terrible, and he would change it if he could. Don't let that ruin this. Just…just tell me you'll consider it, because I don't know how long I'll be able to keep it from him myself."

Sighing painfully, Chi-Chi nodded.

"Thank you, Vegeta," she whispered, squeezing him to her in their first real hug. "You saved me again."

"Right," he said, stepping back from her. "Just do it." And then he left.

Moments later Goku returned to the room, having heard Vegeta exit. He found Chi-Chi sitting in a dazed silence at the foot of her bed, her eyes showing signs of heavy crying. But when he rushed to her side to see what was wrong, she immediately stood and held her hand out to him.

"Wait," she said, wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeve. "I need to tell you something."

Outside her window, Vegeta smiled. At least someone's relationship was going as it should.

* * *

Wow. Can you believe it took me this long to update? Haha. Well, actually I can, because I've been super swamped with work, seeing as I'm about to graduate in 3 weeks, eeep! College really flew by in a blink.

Anyway, I hope this chapter was to your liking. One more should do it. Hopefully I'll get that up soon after I get home. So expect to hear from me soon.

REVIEW!!!!!!!!!


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